


So Close Your Eyes Close With My Dreams

by LovelyLotus



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi & Persona 5 Protagonist-centric, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Detailed warnings in End Notes, Developing Relationship, Domestic Boyfriends, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Max Stats Akiren, Mutual Pining, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Ren uses his whole wordcount on Akechi, Slow Burn, Soulmates, They're both really into each other and their thoughts reflect that, Touch-Starved Goro Akechi, Unresolved Sexual Tension, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:13:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 99,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24774442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLotus/pseuds/LovelyLotus
Summary: Ren arrives a few days early to Tokyo and is promptly run over (via bicycle) by a certain detective. This accidental meeting sparks an intense friendship that neither boy is willing to let go of, even as forces begin conspiring to set them against one another. Whether it’s Masayoshi Shido or the God of Control, nothing in hell is going to divide Joker and Crow.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 583
Kudos: 1031
Collections: Marigolds Discord Recs, Quality Persona Fics, persona fic recommendations





	1. the fog comes on little cat feet

Shibuya was a maze of obelisks and faces, and Ren could only half-believe he was really here at all. When he was younger, he had tried many times to get to Tokyo: by foot, by hiding in the trunk of his father’s car, by sneaking onto trains before the sun rose, and by a sundry of other exit strategies that had never quite panned out. It seemed only fitting that now, Tokyo, his long craved haven, had become his prison for the next year. 

He lifted his phone to check for the directions to Sojiro Sakura’s house. He knew he had to take one of these subway lines. But, strange: his phone was acting up. An app with an icon of a red eye had expanded to fill the screen. He tapped on it a few times, trying to get it to go away. Ugh, the screen was frozen. This had happened before, he just needed to reset his device. The sound of the bustling square around him tapered out like it was petering down through a funnel. The sudden silence unnerved him. He glanced up. Everyone in the square had come to a glacial standstill—mid-step, mid-word. Had the app paused time? Was he hallucinating?

Across the square, towering blue flames appeared with the abruptness of a silent explosion. He stared into them, wondering if the fire was spreading. He could almost make out two triangular yellow eyes and a grinning mouth staring back at him. His own face, shaggy bangs blown back, his eyes citrine and wicked. He blinked.

Back in the square. People moved like normal, talked like normal, weaving their lives around a center of emptiness. Definitely a hallucination then. That hadn’t happened before. He wondered if it was possible to digitally induce hallucinations through malware apps. It might make the plot of a good Sci Fi movie. Something Ray Bradbury would have approved of.

He knew he had been standing still too long when a bicycle rammed into him, throwing him to the ground. His glasses landed in the crossfire, the front wheel of the bike rolling over the left lens with a sickening crack. His elbow had the particular numbness that screamed ‘pain incoming’—it always took a second. He looked up and the boy on the bicycle had halted, staring down at him with a peculiar mix of condescension and disgust. It made him feel like the word “CRIMINAL” was written across his forehead like a scarlet letter. 

The faces of the people around them turned to the scene like sunflowers drawn to light. He could barely make out the whispers, but they were enough to make him wonder if the boy on the bicycle was someone important. It would be just his luck. A bad run in with a politician followed by another bad encounter with some kind of celebrity. 

The boy’s face altered so quickly, it was like a second eyelid closing over his contempt. He smiled and it grated on Ren’s nerves. Dismounting from his bike, the stranger tucked chin-length strands of caramel hair behind his ear and offered a gloved hand.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” His words were plastic.

Ren’s voice dried up in his throat. He didn’t want to take the offer, but it would be kind of petty not to. He nodded in reply before clasping the outstretched hand and lifting himself up. 

There was the brief flash of a camera and the boy grit his teeth. He was definitely attractive enough to be a celebrity.

“Please, let me buy you some tea to make up for breaking your glasses and injuring you.”

 _Injure_? Ren shifted his elbow and grimaced. It was a scraped up eyesore of blood and ripped fabric. He’d have to stitch the white turtleneck up. He only had a few iterations of his school uniform among his (few) possessions.

He shook his head and leaned down to pick up his broken glasses, hoping it would suffice as a refusal.

It didn’t.

The stranger was trying to smile pleasantly, but he couldn’t hide his annoyance at Ren’s dismissal. It was almost amusing. “I insist. Your elbow looks pretty bad and there’s a shop right here.” 

Ren was about to refuse a second time, more firmly, when the boy grabbed his bag from the street and began walking away. And that was a power move, because now Ren couldn’t _not_ follow him. It was grudgingly clever. He slid his broken lenses back onto his face, soothed by the sense of anonymity they gave him. Within minutes, they had arrived at a cutesy café that did not seem on brand at all for the person who had knocked into him. The stranger locked his bike at a rack near the entrance. They stepped in and were seated within minutes. 

“I’ve heard their bubble tea is very good, along with their crêpes. I’ve been meaning to try out this place for a while. Order what you like.” The boy unbuttoned his beige trench coat, letting it slip off his shoulders. He wore a short-sleeved white office shirt and an elegant striped tie.

The awkwardness had already begun blooming between them, almost tangible. Ren tried to muffle the irritation that always came in the aftermath of his own inability to say no when it counted. He wondered how the boy would react if Ren sprinted out of the café full tilt and didn’t look back. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t. At some point, leaving had become more awkward than staying. 

* * *

The fool he had run into had a softness that reminded Goro of a kitten. Meek, docile, stupid. He glanced at everything with huge, dark, bewildered eyes like he didn’t know where he was or where he was going. He was the kind of person Goro would want to cut down in such a way that he wouldn’t even realize he was being sliced apart by the time Goro was through. Loki rumbled approvingly within him.

He wouldn’t even be sitting in a café with this dolt right now if it wasn’t for the attention of his fans. The boy had been obstructing the flow of traffic; he got what was coming to him. If it wasn’t for Goro’s pathological need to protect his reputation against any possible threats, he would have been more than content to leave the boy sprawled on the ground and bike away.

They had been sitting in silence for almost seven minutes and Goro was going a little crazy. He might as well be polite. Most people would fall over themselves just to get a little bit of attention from him once they knew who he was. The boy would probably fall in line. “Your uniform—you’re a Shujin student right?”

The boy nodded. 

“What year are you?”

“Second year.” The boy spoke for the first time. His voice was a little deeper and softer than expected, but it couldn’t make up for how boring of a subject he was. There was something interesting, perhaps, buried in his posture. A tendency to default to good posture, spine straight, shoulders relaxed, head tilted slightly down, etc., before reverting to a slouch almost purposefully. Whenever Goro went into posture analysis he knew he was reaching for straws. There were ten million other things he could be doing right now.

“I’m a third year, so that would make me your senior.” 

The boy nodded, noncommittal. 

“Have you decided what you want to eat yet?” Goro asked, trying to prod the boy into something more than a two word reply.

He merely shook his head and turned a page in response, staring down at the menu without squinting. _Interesting_. 

“I’m sorry your glasses broke. Do you have an extra pair?”

“No, but it’s fine,” the boy said dismissively.

“Don’t you need them to see?”

“I don’t use them for that purpose.” _As he thought_.

“Then what do you use them for?” Goro asked, a little curious despite himself.

The question caused a shift. The menu was flipped shut. Had he touched a nerve? 

“I guess nothing now. They’re broken anyways,” the boy said, something like irritation coloring his voice. He removed and folded his shattered spectacles in a not quite practiced motion. Goro really hadn’t paid enough attention when he had crashed into the boy on the road. For most people, the difference was hardly noticeable, but for this boy, his unadorned face was surprisingly striking. It was almost cinematic, something Clark Kent-esque that would turn up in the super hero shows Goro watched at night and never told anyone about. 

Leaning an angular jaw on his fist, the boy made direct eye contact with Goro for the first time. His narrowed eyes were smoke and steel. Goro got the vaguest hint that the kitten might have claws, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He was always the worst person in any room he walked into. No competition. 

“You can leave.”

Goro was so focused the words almost slipped him by.

“What?”

The boy exhaled. “I said you can leave. You’re obviously annoyed having to waste time here like this, but you’re under no obligation to stay. I don’t think you’re sorry about knocking into me, but I guess I accept some of the blame as well. I was distracted.”

A slow trickle of excitement dripped down Goro’s spine. “What did I do to deserve such harsh accusations? Must I apologize again to earn your forgiveness?”

The boy kissed his teeth. “Don’t bother. Just please stop pretending to be nice to me. It’s kind of disturbing.” Goro, with effort, resisted a violent response.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that. Do you always speak so frankly?” he asked instead, smiling to show he would not stop.

“Do you always lie so easily?” the boy responded. 

Goro reached forward and tapped the boy’s glasses, victorious. “I’m not the only one.”

“I guess not,” the boy conceded, the vaguest hints of a smile curling in his eyes but not reaching his mouth.

“How did you know I was annoyed?” Goro asked.

“You said the right words, but your eyes were cold.”

Goro scoffed. “Vague.”

The boy shrugged. “Time has proven I usually have good instincts about these things.”

Too easy. Goro smiled with venom. “Ah, it makes sense that you’ve developed such keen instincts. After all, it seems you bear an unfortunate tendency to get on people’s nerves.” 

The boy covered his mouth to hide a laugh which was definitely the wrong response to Goro outright calling him annoying. He glanced at the detective through the dark veil of his eyelashes with mischief. “One of many flaws,” he confessed, uncontrite.

“The others?” Goro asked.

“Well, someone recently told me that I lie, so there’s that I guess.”

It surprised a chuckle out of Goro. He disguised it by clearing his throat. 

The waitress arrived with a click of her heel and Goro experienced an unexpected surge of annoyance at the interruption. The boy had turned out somewhat more interesting than expected. “Sorry for the delay, gentlemen. Hope you’re doing well. What can I get you?”

The boy spoke up, his voice soft and apologetic. A return of a meekness that had to be at least a little put on. “Oh, sorry. We’re actually not—”

“I’ll have a peach milk tea with cheese cream foam and strawberry boba. I’ll also have a mango delight crêpe. My acquaintance will be having?” Goro turned to the boy askingly. 

The boy bit his lip hesitantly but answered. “Strawberry tea with cheese cream foam and brown sugar boba.”

“What will you have to eat?” Goro asked. 

The boy shook his head. “I’m not—”

“Do you like mango?”

“Umm, yes but—”

“He’ll have what I’m having.” 

The waitress looked between the two of them, confused. She lingered a little too long, like she was unsure. Goro let it go on for a minute.

“Do you have a problem?” he finally asked somewhat sharply. The waitress flinched.

“Oh, sorry.” She took their menus and walked away quickly. 

Goro turned his attention back to the boy who frowned at him. 

“Is there a problem?” he asked again, saccharine.

“You were brusque with her,” the boy said, almost disapprovingly. Unfortunately, he was right. Goro had a reputation to keep up, and tolerating minor annoyances was just part and parcel of that. He usually didn’t slip. 

“First you want me to stop being nice then you demand that I be nice again?” Goro tsked. “I think you should be more careful with what you ask for from people.”

“I’ll add recklessness to my list of shortcomings.”

Goro bit back a genuine smile. “I think it was already on there. You could add self-contradictory though.”

“I’ll keep it in mind for further consideration.” 

Goro held out his hand. “I’m Goro Akechi.”

There was no spark of familiarity or realization. 

The boy returned his grip with surprising firmness. “Ren Amamiya.”

A poetic name. He almost said so out loud when his phone buzzed. Their hands separated.

He had thrown everything inside his briefcase in a hurry, eager to end the work day. He removed the book he was reading to place it out of the way on the table and sifted through the various files and worksheets he had haphazardly stacked inside. He found his phone within a case file, which made him question for a minute if it was a piece of evidence. No, it was most certainly his. The scuff marks from various early morning flings with the hardwood floor of his apartment confirmed it. He didn’t recognize the number or the area code of the caller, so it was most likely a scam call. He hit the red button to end the vibrating. 

* * *

“Is this what you’re reading?” Ren asked, gesturing to _Hamlet_ , when Akechi had put his phone away. He didn’t really know why he was trying to further the conversation at all. Akechi had proven himself to be somewhat of an asshole. 

“Yes. It’s very good. I don’t think it’s everyone’s cup of tea, but I would highly recommend it.” Was Akechi aware of how thick the condescension dripped from his words? Ren had not only read _Hamlet_ , but in fact loathed the play on an almost personal level.

He debated if he should say anything on it. He already knew he would. The chance of needling someone so high strung was too appealing to let pass. He fiddled with his blazer buttons. Despite the warmth of the day, he had thrown it on to hide his wounded elbow. He gathered the courage to speak.

“To be honest, I can’t stand _Hamlet_. Have you finished it?” 

Akechi nodded, doing a poor job of hiding his surprise. Ren liked the way his eyes changed color in the light when they widened. Ren gathered the words to flesh out his opinion.

“Shakespeare wants Hamlet to be a deep character. He alludes frequently to ‘that which passes show,’ some hidden or unseen side of Hamlet that is supposed to make him more profound than what he is. In truth, Hamlet just uses that unseen deepness and his grief as an excuse to be an ass to everyone around him. He gets too many people caught in the crossfire and he’s ineffective. Additionally, he has the emotional maturity of a 5 year old.”

Akechi crossed his ankles and narrowed his eyes. “Emotional maturity of a 5 year old? I think his expression of grief at Ophelia’s funeral was rather complex and moving. And Shakespeare was effectively doing way more with Hamlet than you presume. He did not just make up depth, it’s the subjectivity effect. By alluding to the fact that we don’t have full access to a character’s subconscious, they become more real to us. There are thoughts we can’t comprehend in Hamlet’s mind. By referencing those thoughts, Hamlet becomes tangible.”

Ren scoffed. “Hamlet’s display at her grave was vulgar. I didn’t find anything particularly moving about it. He made her whole death about himself and how much more he apparently loves her than her own brother. Also, based on your explanation of the subjectivity effect, I would think it works better when the author is not outright telling you there’s hidden depth. I’d rather it be more subtle and nuanced.”

“You think Shakespeare’s too explicit about Hamlet’s subconscious?”

“Not about his whole subconscious, just about how sad and depressed he is. Writing outright that Hamlet has some inner grief he can’t come to terms with is the opposite of complexifying his character.”

“You have to remember that Hamlet is a play, Amamiya. Thus there are certain limitations that arise when conveying a character’s subconscious. Some explicitness is to be expected, but there is much about Hamlet’s subconscious that is yet unknown. In many places, you have to extrapolate how he must be feeling from the situational premise of the play. His uncle betrayed his father and his mother married his uncle, betraying Hamlet in a sense. On top of that, he must hide his sorrow at losing his father in order to stay close enough to his mother and uncle to enact revenge. He has no outlet for that loss and so we see it inevitably leak out in various forms throughout the events of the play, such as Ophelia’s funeral.”

This was actually kind of fun. “Hmm. Seeing _Hamlet_ as a play expressing different aspects of mourning makes it a little more interesting. But I think the play makes a rather unconvincing jump from the effects of grief on Hamlet to suddenly showing that Hamlet has a reckless disregard for the lives of people unrelated to his goal, like Polonius. This is what made me stop rooting for Hamlet. How much of his behavior can grief justify?” 

Akechi scoffed. “Hamlet is operating under a framework of not only grief but also vengeance. He sees only allies and enemies. Polonius is firmly on his Uncle’s side. The whole event where he sees his uncle and Polonius conspiring to set him up with Ophelia just cements his allegiance. Therefore, Polonius was expendable in Hamlet’s plot. He didn’t care for him.” 

“See but that’s a very scorched earth revenge strategy. Hamlet has no plan for what comes after. The whole ending sequence where literally all the characters die makes the vengeance pointless. It also makes Hamlet seem aimless; that, along with his indecisiveness and hesitation.” 

“Are you of the belief that an avenger needs a happily-ever-after to enact perfect revenge?” Akechi asked.

“Yes. I think your own personal happiness and success is the cherry on top.”

Akechi laughed. “I think you’re a bit of an optimistic fool, Amamiya. But I want to refer back to your earlier allusion to Hamlet’s hesitation. In my mind, this is what cements his complexity as a character. He hesitates because he is torn between his passion for revenge and his rationality. He knows completing his revenge will destroy Denmark and any semblance of family he has left. His hesitation is what marks him an incompetent avenger. He is too attached to his mother and his kingdom to do what needs to be done.”

“I disagree, Akechi. I think Hamlet hesitates because he can’t see revenge without his own death being part of it. Therefore, he has to come to terms with death before he can complete his revenge. He shows a lot of concern throughout the play for what happens afterwards. His father’s existence as a ghost and the scene with the gravediggers and the skull of Yorick are good examples. I mean the most famous line of the play itself directly references Hamlet’s desire for death. I think he uses his revenge partly as a way of fulfilling this desire. So, what makes him an incompetent avenger is his inability to reason out a revenge plan where he comes out on the other side intact with his happiness attached.”

“That’s a fascinating take. So you’re saying if Hamlet was more willing to strive for personal happiness on par with his revenge, he would have been more effective in taking out Claudius?”

Ren nodded.

Akechi placed his index finger on his chin pensively. “Hmm, you’ve definitely given me something to think about. On a side note, did you know Hamlet was an inspiration for some of Sigmund Freud’s most famous theories, namely the Oedipus complex?”

Ren made a face like he had bit into a raw onion. 

Akechi laughed. Strange, how much more agreeable he appeared when he genuinely smiled. 

“Haha. I know Freud is problematic, don’t look at me like that. I do, however, think psychoanalysis is an interesting lens to interpret literature. Have you by chance heard of Lacan?”

Ren shook his head.

“He’s a little bit less known than Freud, but he has a popular theory on mirrors. He wrote that our self image is based on the first glimpse we see of ourselves in a mirror. However, this cognition inevitably falls short, so part of our image will always be rooted in the realm of the imagination. To me, it means we’re all missing aspects of ourselves, searching for completion. Perhaps Hamlet saw completion in his death.”

Ren bit his lip. “That’s… a very dark take on it. I don’t think death can be a missing part of your identity, and it’s not fully clear that Hamlet overcame his fear of death or integrated it within himself. He just had to give into it in the end. I prefer thinking he is peaceful because he has come to terms with his grief and knows that the truth will prevail, even if he doesn’t get to be the one to recount the events.” 

“Then in a sense, he did overcome death, Amamiya. His story will be remembered and told through Horatio, so he is effectively immortalized.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough to say he got over death, Akechi.”

Akechi waved his hand dismissively. “We’re all just stories at the end of the day, Amamiya. If even part of your work or life is remembered, I would call that a victory. We’ve rendered _Hamlet_ ’s ending less nihilistic with this interpretation. I would go as far as to say it’s almost hopeful.”

Ren smiled, a little bemused. “Was that what we were intending to do with our debate? Reinterpret _Hamlet_?” 

“No, but it’s what we accomplished,” Akechi said, smiling back.

Ren crossed his legs. “This doesn’t have to do with the play, but Lacan’s theory reminds me of an analysis I read for one of my favorite shows. I guess it deals more with interpersonal connections than death though.”

“Ah, I’d love to hear more.”

“In the show there are different main characters with different special abilities who have to team up to defend justice. In the process, they all become very close and you start to see how they work together not only on a physical level but an emotional one. The strength of these bonds gives them the ultimate strength to defeat the existential threat to justice in the climax. It makes me think that creating tight-knit links with others and finding your soulmates is how you fill the missing parts of yourself.”

Akechi cleared his throat. His cheeks were flushed. “Are you, perhaps, talking about Phoenix Ranger Feathermen R?”

Ren nodded. 

“Isn’t that, umm, a kid’s show?” Akechi asked.

Ren frowned. “Well, yes. But I think of the show as a work of art, so it opens it up for interpretation and critique. It makes compelling arguments about justice and moral ambiguity. Just saying we should ignore it because it’s not intended for our age group is a bit reductive. I know there are plenty of older fans too.”

“Yes! I… I agree completely. In fact, I may have, uh, watched a few episodes myself.” Akechi’s face was bright pink. _He was kind of adorable_ , Ren decided. “So in response to your analysis, I would say that that is actually one of my lesser liked aspects of the show. It doesn’t seem realistic to me that so many characters with such varying personalities and motivations could get along so well and be so close-knit with each other. It’s not realistic.”

Ren sighed. “I can’t argue that it’s realistic. But families of choice and fire-forged friendships are two of my favorite tropes of all time. I love the thought that you get to build your own family with the people you love.”

“People technically do that through marriage already, Amamiya, so I can’t say there’s no basis in the real world. But it’s surprising how fond of it you are. Are you close with your own family?”

Ren’s heart convulsed in his chest like it was being electrocuted; his mouth curved a little too wide. “I don’t know if my liking for the trope has to be related to my personal circumstances, Akechi. It’s a pretty popular trope in general I think.”

“You’re right,” Akechi conceded, tapping the table with his gloved hand. “I merely got a little curious, my apologies. To be honest, I’ve never had someone speak so honestly with me before. You’re not afraid to disagree with me either. To reference Hegel, ‘advancement cannot occur without both thesis and antithesis.’”

Ren raised an eyebrow askingly.

“It’s a philosophical concept. Basically, disagreement leads to the creation of new, in my opinion superior, ideas. Here, give me the first conceptual word that comes to mind. It’s best explained through example.”

“Peace,” Ren said.

“Ah, you’ve chosen a more difficult one. Well, the theoretical antithesis to peace is war, would you agree?”

Ren nodded. 

“So eventually the two will have to merge and come to terms to create a new concept. This case actually reminds me a little bit of the Cold War between America and the USSR. A stasis not quite war or peace but with plenty of intellectual flourishing and development. It’s not a perfect example though, as it was technically still a war.”

“Maybe rivalry?” Ren suggested. “That is, if countries can have traditional rivalries.”

“Healthy competition to avoid both the stagnation of peace and the devastation of war. Perfect. You’ve grasped the concept. We’d then have to find the opposite of rivalry to create a new antithesis. Those two concepts would battle for a new synthesis and the cycle continues. Here, let’s do another one. Give me another word.”

“Freedom.”

Akechi sighed. “Another tough one. Hmmm. What I think of personally for its antithesis is security; though, I’m not sure that’s exactly right.”

Ren nodded.

“So for synthesis I would say it would be the government. It punishes criminals providing security to the country and it passes laws guaranteeing certain freedoms to the citizens.”

Ren scoffed. “I think the government is way more invested in security than freedom. Society as a whole feels devised to deny as much freedom as possible; especially to its youngest citizens. I think the synthesis between the two hasn’t emerged yet to be honest.”

Akechi smiled. “You sound like an anarchist, Amamiya. Do you have something to confess?”

Ren laughed. “No, definitely not. I believe in the government as an institution. I just think our criminal justice system is more than a little problematic. I mean, with the allegations of forced confessions, the high conviction rate, and the corruption amongst politicians, it's hard to trust in any justice the system delivers.”

“I agree with you that the justice system is far from ideal. However, it is still the fruit of hundreds of years of evolution. Change will be slow, but it will happen. That pace is vital to keep our systems stable. Thus, I choose to uphold it.”

Ren sighed. “I can’t fault you there. I suppose I’m just a little impatient.” 

Akechi leaned forward across the table, his eyes darkening. “Believe me when I say I feel you, Amamiya. Justice is frustrating and contradictory. Sometimes, I wonder whether there’s anything worthy left in the concept at all. But I have to believe for now. It’s part of why I find Feathermen so interesting. It doesn’t accept any view of justice as inherently more right than another view. It’s surprisingly subversive for a show airing on public television. I think it gets away with it because it’s a kid’s show. Each Featherman has their own vision of justice and while their views often come into conflict, each character has a valid point and no one’s opinion is just bull-dozed over.”

Ren nodded in agreement. The table suddenly caught his eye. Akechi followed his eye-line downwards.

“It looks like the food has arrived,” Akechi said. “To be honest, I didn’t even notice.”

“Same.”

They began eating.

“Do you have a favorite episode?” Ren asked.

Akechi’s eyes lit up.

* * *

When Amamiya smiled, his eyes softened to dove wings. They had switched back and forth between topics numerous times and had now finally settled on Neo Phoenix Ranger Feathermen, the sequel series. Amamiya was currently recounting his thoughts on the latest episode. Goro couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed till his diaphragm had hurt. He heard the click of the waitress’ heels approaching and composed himself.

“Excuse me sirs, but we’re closing.”

Goro balked. He switched on his phone and glanced at the time. They had spent hours talking. He had completely lost track of time.

Amamiya seemed to have come to the same realization. His face had returned to his stoic default expression and Goro kind of liked that he didn’t smile very easily. The waitress cleared the table and Goro went to the front to pay, Amamiya trailing behind him. They stepped outside the café and the sun was already setting, splashing everything with gold.

“You make an excellent debate partner, Amamiya. In fact, your perspective over the last few hours has made me think about many things in unexpected ways. Would you like to trade contact information? I would like for our conversations to continue.”

Amamiya nodded and handed his phone over. Goro was surprised by how few contacts there were. Only 2 or 3 other people.

“I just moved to Tokyo today. I’m glad the first person I ran into ended up becoming a friend. It’s a good omen.” Amamiya’s gray eyes were warm again as he looked at Goro. His face was lit pink by the sunset. 

_Friend_?

“Do you believe in such things? Fate and destiny and the like?” Goro asked, handing back the phone.

Amamiya scuffed his heel against the sidewalk. “I mean, a little bit. I think coincidences are little nudges from the world towards the right path, you know?”

Goro couldn’t help but think of the series of coincidences that had led him here, all beginning with the Persona given to him by God for his mission. 

“I think I do actually. But it’s a conversation for another time. We should head to the station. It’s in the direction I have to bike towards to get back home.”

“Is it safe, biking at night?” Amamiya asked, biting his lip. Goro wondered if he hailed from the countryside or another city. Country, if Goro were to hazard a guess.

Goro scoffed at the nerve. “You don’t need to worry about me. My home is close by and I can take care of myself.”

“Mmkay. I’m going to Yongen Jaya.”

“You know which line to take?”

Mischief danced across Amamiya’s face even though his expression did not change. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself,” he said in a gruff imitation of Goro’s voice.

Goro frowned at the sass.

“Besides, I have my phone’s GPS.”

“Okay. Make sure to text me so I can save your number,” Goro ordered.

“Roger,” Amamiya said cheekily, giving Goro a solemn salute. Absolutely infuriating.

“I’ll see you.”

They parted ways, Goro mounting his bike for the short ride home.

There was a surprising amount of elation that came from a good debate. Energy surged through his toes up to his hair like electricity. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation that was so thorough or with such a well-suited opponent. Amamiya had turned out to be quite clever. Goro was glad he had hit him with the bike. 

But he did wonder if Amamiya knew how to take care of the wound adequately. He hadn’t disinfected it or anything. Not that he could at the restaurant. 

Goro scoffed at the idiocy of his own thoughts. Amamiya’s elbow was going to be fine. After all, it had scabbed over already. 

When he got home, Goro kicked off his shoes, tossed his coat on the rack, and tied up his hair into a ponytail. He laid back on the sofa, feeling exhaustion creep up through his limbs. He grabbed his phone, and a text message lit up on the screen. He tapped on it to go to his messages.

> **???** : Hi 
> 
> **???** : This is Ren Amamiya. 

How eloquent. At least he had punctuated. He saved the number in his phone.

> **Akechi** : How is your elbow doing?
> 
> **Amamiya** : It’s fine! I actually forgot it was injured haha.
> 
> **Akechi** : Make sure to give it proper medical attention. It needs a good cleaning and a bandage.
> 
> **Amamiya** : okay will do (＾＾)ｂ

The kaomoji was a little unexpected but Goro couldn’t say he disliked it. This was surely how teenagers these days communicated with one another. Perhaps he should take note for his blog, sprinkle in a few convivial emojis himself in his next post.

His phone rang, and Goro almost dropped it on his face from surprise. It was the same number from the restaurant. He picked it up this time. 

“You missed my earlier call. Did you even see my message?” 

It was amazing how fast Goro’s blood could begin boiling just at the sound of Masayoshi Shido’s voice. 

“Ah yes. Of course it will be done.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Goro. You’ve set the bar high with your previous performances.” It was almost funny how heavy-handed Shido’s attempts at flattery were. The praise still felt nice though.

“Thank you, sir. By any chance, did you change your number?”

“I’ve decided our calls need more security, so I will be calling from this number for now. That isn’t a problem, is it?”

“Of course not.”

“I anticipate some excellent results soon.”

And with that Shido hung up the phone. Goro almost flung it against the wall, but resisted the impulse though Loki grumbled discontentedly. 

In the long list of things Shido had taken from him, peace of mind was always near the top. It would be nice to recapture that feeling in the café earlier today. It had been a bit cutesy, but there had been something quite soothing about being there. He should probably go back and make a blog entry about the food, though he hadn’t paid too much attention to it. Maybe he could pick out the kaomojis beforehand. 

* * *

“You’re starting school Monday. We’ll head to Shujin on Sunday to introduce you to the staff. Until then, you’ll be helping me out here. Don’t think about causing any trouble,” Sojiro said.

“I’ll do my best,” Ren replied. He almost reached for his throat in surprise. It was definitely sore. He had never talked so much before that his voice had actually physically started hurting. Was that normal?

“Huh,” Sojiro said thoughtfully, like he didn’t believe him. “Anyway, kid, this is your room.”

Ren examined the attic silently. The space was huge and cluttered, a thin film of dust coating everything. The threadbare mattress rested on old milk crates. It would take a while to clean up.

“You look like you wanna say something.” Sojiro’s eyes glinted and Ren suspected that this was a test. Perhaps Sojiro wanted to establish his hesitation in taking in Ren at all by giving him a storage loft to sleep in. It made sense. After all, who would want a criminal sleeping in their actual home. 

It was fine, Ren hadn’t expected kindness from his probation guardian. This was more than enough.

“It’s big,” he responded. 

“Well, it’ll be up to you to clean up the rest. I’ll at least give you sheets for the bed.”

Ren nodded.

Sojiro gave a speedy rendition of the events before and after his arrest (not that Ren could really disagree with any of it, except the part where he had supposedly injured that man) before giving the sage advice Ren had heard over and over again since the police had first handcuffed him. _Should have minded your own business_. 

Sojiro eventually headed back down, leaving Ren to unpack. There wasn’t a closet or a wardrobe, so he might as well leave his clothes in the box they had arrived in. He didn’t have very many outfits, and the cardboard box would fit with the decor at least. Next, he placed his broken glasses on the window sill. He’d have to go purchase another pair asap. As they were, they’d likely just attract attention, the opposite of their intended effect.

There were some cleaning supplies lying in the attic like the process had been started but not yet finished. Ren rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

A few hours later, Sojiro closed down the café and left for his house. The attic was a lot more cheerful after it had been cleaned and Ren decided that he liked the privacy. Café Leblanc opened early so he might as well go to bed. Ren changed into his pajamas and rinsed his scabbed-over elbow, patting it dry. It was already on its way to healing up well. He threw himself onto the bed and reached for his phone. 

Akechi had texted him. Excitement spiralled up through him, almost tangible. 

The subject line read: “On our prior conversation…” Ren eagerly tapped the chat.

Akechi had left him a pretty lengthy message, all perfectly punctuated, as Ren had expected it to be. He quickly read through it and smirked. Akechi was just asking to be contradicted. 

He started typing. He didn’t usually have the patience for paragraph length texts, but the words were practically flying from his fingers. He hit the send button wondering how long it would— 

Oh! The reply came fast. Akechi was still awake then.

They continued texting for over an hour before Ren had to throw in the towel. He had to be alert when Sojiro taught him the ropes tomorrow. The man’s opinion of him was already pretty low. He could only imagine how much lower it would go if he broke something or made a stupid mistake.

Akechi texted back that he had school in the morning so he should be going to bed too. Ren stifled a yawn, texting good night before plugging in his phone for charging. He rolled over, pulling the blanket up to his chin before drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Akechi and Ren meet, get on each other’s nerves, have a thinly veiled conversation about vengeance, and get supremely intellectually horny for each other.
> 
> Detailed TW: The boys discuss Hamlet including the sections dealing with Hamlet's suicidal thoughts inside the play. Please take care of yourself. 
> 
> Goro somewhat identifies with Hamlet, ill-thought-out vengeance plots and all. This fic was mainly fueled by my desire for fluff and soft bloodthirsty boyfriends.
> 
> Thank you for reading! It's my first time writing these characters so please let me know how I do. I'm planning on updating once a week on Wednesdays. Tags will be updated with the fic.


	2. we were very tired, we were very merry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren heads over to Kichijoji on Friday to buy a new pair of glasses. He gets lost and bumps into a certain detective.

As expected, Café Leblanc opened with the sun. A slow tide of sleep-deprived Yongen Jaya salarymen trickled in and Sojiro kept him busy, going back and forth to drop off mugs of piping hot coffee and pick up dirty curry bowls. The men spoke to each other in a language of grunts and mumbles. One man asked about the new part-timer and Sojiro gave a cursory response. 

He wanted to finish the debate from last night. Or more precisely, he wanted to tear Akechi’s argument apart. He had texted him good morning to begin the conversation but Akechi hadn’t replied yet. He was probably getting ready for school. Ren wondered if Akechi’s briefcase functioned as his schoolbag. It was an odd choice, but kind of fitting. Did the A stand for Akechi?

Finally, around 8 AM, his friend texted him back.

> **Akechi** : Good morning, Amamiya. 
> 
> **Amamiya** : Are you on your way to school?
> 
> **Akechi** : Yes. You mentioned you just moved here. Have you begun attending Shujin yet?
> 
> **Amamiya** : Not yet. Anyway, I know you can’t text in class but I wanted to continue our debate from yesterday. 
> 
> **Akechi** : On time travel? I regret to inform you that your arguments yesterday were rather ineffective. In fact, I think I am even more firm in my belief today that time travel is the most ill-constructed of all story tropes. Hopefully you have thought of a new angle?
> 
> **Amamiya** : Oh yes. Today, instead of arguing on behalf of time travel, I will point out every single story trope I believe is more “ill-constructed” than time travel. I hope you’re prepared. 
> 
> **Akechi** : I will admit I did not expect you to take that angle. 

Ren was in the middle of typing out a reply when Sojiro called for him. He quickly pocketed his phone and ran to wash the dishes. By lunchtime the rush had mostly died down and the café was empty. He’d managed to text Akechi periodically throughout the morning and the other boy had replied when he could. Akechi gave off straight-laced vibes. It was unlikely that he would text Ren during class. 

By late afternoon, Sojiro had closed the shop and gone out for groceries. Ren was somewhat engaged with a book of half-finished crossword puzzles but he was getting stuck. And bored. He hung up the green apron Sojiro had lent him on a hook and went out to sit on the wooden chair by the entranceway. It would be nice to sit and read here if he could get his hands on some books. There were some in his room, but they all covered highly technical research topics. Sojiro had said they'd belonged to an old friend. Probably some kind of researcher in psychology. For now, he unlocked his phone.

The stupid malware app had returned. Ren deleted it again before it could make him hallucinate or hack his phone or something. Maybe he could surf the internet to kill some time. Did Café Leblanc even have wifi? Ren quickly discovered the answer was no. 

Akechi hadn’t yet responded to him even though school was probably over by this point. Ren sighed. That was it. He was going to have to read the newspaper. There was literally nothing else to do. Or maybe he could shuffle through the books in his room again? Find the most accessible one? 

Before he could stand up, a white blur practically launched itself onto his lap. It was a cat. Ren’s heart seized up in excitement, but he stayed calm holding out his fingers. The cat licked his hand curiously before going back to grooming itself. Ren carefully began stroking behind the ears. At first, the cat mewled in surprised before it began purring. Ren stopped to adjust his sleeve and the cat butted its head against his hand impatiently. When Ren continued petting, the cat began to knead its paws against Ren’s thigh. He slowly reached for his phone to take a photo.

Before long, another cat was approaching. Its fur was a dark grey color and it immediately tumbled onto Ren’s shoulder. The Yongen Jaya street cats were well taken care of and well-accustomed to people if their boldness was any indication. Ren had enjoyed taking care of the street cats back home, even though some members of his town thought that they were pests. 

Eventually Ren began carefully stroking the one on his shoulder. It was intently grooming his curls like it thought his hair was fur. The one on his lap was beginning to fall asleep and Ren’s heart was practically goo from how adorable they were. He yawned.

The peacefulness and warmth of the afternoon was beginning to get to him too. He could feel Morpheus slowly overpower him like a draught. 

His eyes slid close.

*

*

*

“Hey kid. Wake up and help me put the groceries away.”

Ren jolted. Sojiro was staring at him curiously. The cat on his shoulder leapt onto the fence and bolted away. Ren yawned, then stood up, carefully cradling the cat from his lap. He set the furball back down onto the chair and she continued sleeping, undisturbed. 

“Are you some kind of cat whisperer?” Sojiro asked, wiping sweat from his brow. He almost sounded amused. Ren shrugged and opened the café door for his guardian, who dumped all of the bags on the table of the nearest booth. He then carefully instructed Ren where everything went. 

It was almost evening. It had been a hot day.

“Sojiro-san, would it be okay if we left some water out for the cats?” Ren asked, fidgeting.

His guardian sighed. “You know if you feed them they aren’t going to leave you or this café alone.”

“Oh.”

Sojiro sighed again, even louder this time. “Here, I have a pan with a broken handle. Go across the street so they don’t get attached to this place. Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Ren nodded obediently, accepting the pan and quickly filling it up with cold water. He did as Sojiro said. After a few minutes, there were a number of cats drinking from the bowl. Ren couldn’t help but take numerous pictures. If he wasn’t careful, his whole gallery would soon be filled with cats. That was not a bad thing though. In fact, it would actually be kind of wonderful.

He wanted to share the photos with someone. Akechi hadn’t telegraphed a clear love of cats, but wasn’t it a cardinal rule of life that everyone appreciated cute animal photos? He would only pick the best one anyway. He hit the send button before he could change his mind. Akechi was still offline.

From his position in the street, he had a little bit of internet connection if he used the network of a nearby store. He looked up places to buy glasses and found there was a shop in Kichijoji. He could probably head over tomorrow after work to find a replacement. 

After the water levels in the broken pan were depleted, Ren returned to the café. There was an older couple who had come in for an evening cup of coffee. They started a conversation with Ren and he kept up the small talk, giving soft mmhmms of agreement when appropriate. Sojiro resolutely ignored everyone, focused on the crossword puzzles. 

For the first time in a long time, Ren was excited to go to school again. It was a nice opportunity to start over. His old school had been pretty small, everyone knowing each other since kindergarten. Even if he went back for his last year after probation, things would never be the same there again.

* * *

At times, Goro hated going home. Everything he had, including his apartment was owned by Shido, contingent on his willingness to jump when Shido demanded it. And Shido’s demands were endless. It had started with just helping out with research. Then, he had gotten Loki and the requests had escalated rapidly. Today, it was only a mental breakdown. Nothing too taxing, the victim would eventually recover physically and mentally, though their political career was over. 

Goro couldn’t stand touching anything until he had taken a shower. The Other World coagulated like blood on his skin. He wanted to step out of his own body. When the hot water pounded down on his hair, he tried to imagine what his shadow would look like if he could have one. He imagined bloody red strings coming out from his back and down his arms, his legs tossed about haphazardly as he was paraded across a stage. It was a gruesome image and he let it flow out of him with the water. 

He had some assignments to do for school. It would be nice to find some kind of café to work in, but judging from the light left outside, most places would be closing soon. Hmm. He might as well stay in tonight; he was in no mood to run into any of his fans.

He turned off the shower and patted the water from his skin. He moisturized his body with scentless lotion and threw on lounge clothes and a face mask. He got out his books and phone. 

Amamiya had texted him back. Seeing the notification lit a small kernel of warmth somewhere in his chest. He quickly opened his chats to read what incompetence the boy was spouting now. Goro was going to dismantle him.

He was greeted with a photo of a cat. He blinked.

> **Akechi** : I think you accidentally sent me something.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Oh haha, yeah I thought this cat was cute. The backstreets of Yongen Jaya has a lot of them and this one jumped onto my lap.

Amamiya must be really starved for friends if he was sending cat photos to Goro of all people. The cat _was_ undeniably adorable though, with its big blue eyes and fluffy white tail.

> **Akechi** : I concur, it is rather endearing. I should have supposed you’d be a cat person.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Oh? I guess I’ve always loved cats. Anyway, how was your day?
> 
> **Akechi** : It was long and hectic. 
> 
> **Amamiya** : That sounds rough. Are you okay?

It was somewhat novel, being asked that. 

> **Akechi** : I’ll be fine. I should really be used to it by now.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Don’t be hard on yourself. Should I send you some more cat photos to cheer you up?

Amamiya was so simple, it was almost endearing at times.

> **Akechi** : I wouldn’t mind.

A few seconds later, Amamiya had sent him another three photos. Goro perused them carefully, noting all the different varieties of cats. They were drinking water from a broken pot or something. Or was that a pan? Pans were flat, right? Pots were round. He surprisingly felt a little better.

He actually wouldn’t mind meeting Amamiya again. He was a good debate partner who kept him on his toes. Amamiya didn’t know about his celebrity status either, so his company was refreshing. He might as well.

> **Akechi** : You’re new to Tokyo right? If you’d like I can show you some of my favorite parts of the city on Saturday.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Really? I would definitely appreciate that! I’ll go ask my guardian immediately.

Guardian. It was a strange word choice. Not typically used for parents. His curiosity about Amamiya was only growing. 

> **Amamiya** : He said yes. 
> 
> **Akechi** : Great. I’ll text you more details tomorrow. I need to work on some homework for a while. I’ll continue our debate later.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Okay. Take it easy, Akechi. 

Sentimental fool.

> **Akechi** : Worry about yourself.

He threw his phone on to the table and grabbed the book he had to read for class. He laid back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, mustering the willpower to make it through the next few hours. His high grades were mostly fueled through sheer pettiness. He couldn’t stand being second place to any of the doddering imbeciles in his school. Many of his peers had asked for his assistance with classwork, only for him to sweetly and swiftly reject them. 

Amamiya had seen through him so quickly. Was there a crack in his detective prince facade? His classmates thought he was extremely amiable if the rate they kept approaching him was to be trusted. But he was pretty sure Amamiya liked him a little too. Otherwise he wouldn’t have texted Goro back or kept up a conversation with him until now or even sent him cat photos. He obviously couldn’t have perceived how dangerous Goro really was if he was staying in touch. 

Perhaps it was best not to ponder Amamiya too deeply. At the end of the day, he was just another whetstone for Goro to sharpen himself on. He turned back to his reading.

* * *

Ren sent Akechi a new cat photo on Friday with a good morning attached. Even more cats had come to the water pan this morning than they had yesterday. Ren wondered if they had spread the word to each other. Maybe cats gossiped, trading info during communal nap time?

Akechi texted a cheery ‘Good morning!’ in reply before giving a cutting comeback in the new debate they had started last night. He knew he was being goaded, but Ren still couldn’t take his words lying down. He began typing out a lengthy response.

Fridays in the café were nearly indistinguishable from Thursdays in the café, except there was less of an early morning crowd. Ren altered his earlier assessment: there was no way Akechi wasn’t texting him during class. If his debate skills were any basis though, he probably didn’t need to pay attention to do well. By the afternoon, Sojiro was willing to show him how to brew coffee. Ren knew it was probably just to make his own job easier, but Ren counted it as a small victory towards getting in the man’s good graces. 

After Sojiro closed the café (early today), Ren headed to the station. It took him a long time with the subway map to figure out how to get to Kichijoji. He eventually wrote the directions on the palm of his hand so he wouldn’t lose the way. 

The subway was crowded even though it was already evening. Ren didn’t know if he would ever get used to the sheer number of people in Tokyo. He felt weirdly exposed without the plastic frame of his glasses covering his face. His lawyer after the incident had bought him his first pair. He was told he needed to look more unassuming. However, in the short months after he had first donned the glasses, they had ended up becoming a kind of security blanket. 

He had always shared an uncomfortable relationship with attention.

At school, before his trial and subsequent expulsion, teachers and students alike had simply acted like he didn’t exist. A state of almost ghost-like translucency. They stared at him and whispered, but they didn’t call on him, greet him in the morning, or talk to him like before. He hadn’t been especially close to anyone there, but the way his peers moved to the other side of the hallway as he passed still hurt. Being beaten up a few times would have been better if it meant things could have returned to normal. 

At his house, his existence had always been in a weird state of flux. His parents had never known what to do with him. Once he had reached a certain age, they’d paid him no mind as long as he stayed at the top of his class. He made his own meals and sometimes went weeks, occasionally months, without seeing them. They held high-ranking business positions, so they traveled frequently. He was trusted to take care of himself and he’d honestly liked it that way. 

Three parallel strings, content not to braid or tangle together. And then he had gone and knotted it all up. Was it any wonder they had reached for the scissors?

*

*

*

He exited the train stumbling outside of the subway entrance with the grace of a raccoon exposed to daylight. Kichijoji radiated a cheerful, invigorating energy—Ren loved it instantly. The alleyways formed a bit of a labyrinth, but Ren really didn’t mind exploring. His eyes weren’t big enough to take everything in. The smell of incense and spicy food permeated the air. Ren’s mouth watered as he passed a Chinese Bun Shop. 

Half an hour passed. It was time to really buckle down and find the store. It was already dark, though it wasn’t terribly late. He tried to set out on a more specific route so he wouldn’t get turned around. Alleyway, alleyway, oh look: another alleyway. Vendors and local stores were arranged in a disorienting crossword puzzle lattice. The checkered light from their lamps made strange shadows on the pavement. How many of these places only opened up shop in the evening? Ren wrinkled his nose at the stench of alcohol, sweat, and perfume. There were plenty of dive bars and drunkards to go along with them.

After another thirty minutes had passed, Ren began to worry the store didn’t exist anymore. Maybe he should retrace his steps back to the subway and start from the beginning?

A hand clapped down on his shoulder and Ren recoiled so hard he almost fell over. 

“Amamiya, what are you doing here?” That voice.

Ren spun around and saw Akechi was looking down at him, unimpressed. He was taller than Ren standing up. They stared at each other awkwardly for half a minute.

“Oh, hi,” Ren eventually greeted. Akechi’s hand slid off his shoulder.

“Ah, he speaks,” Akechi muttered, rolling his eyes. “You are lost.”

“Very astute,” Ren said.

“So?”

Ren scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

Akechi cleared his throat irritatedly. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m buying a new pair of glasses. If you’ll recall, my old pair broke,” Ren explained, a playful edge in his voice.

Akechi smirked. “How careless of you. You really should take better care of your things, Amamiya.”

Ren laughed. “Well, I say they broke but really somebody broke them.”

“Who would do such a terrible thing?” Akechi drawled, a smug smile dancing on his lips.

Ren paused, feigning dead seriousness. “Why, a terrible person, of course.”

Akechi coughed. “Ah, haha. Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?”

“It’s growing more doubtful by the minute.” 

Akechi chuckled. “I guess you’ll never know, Amamiya. Anyway, what’s the shop name? Maybe I’ll tag along.”

Ren glanced down at his palm out of habit. “It’s called—”

Akechi interrupted, exasperation dripping from his words. “Did you seriously write the directions on your hand? Seriously, you’re just asking to be taken advantage of! You’re acting like a tourist, country boy.” Akechi grabbed his hand, reading the smudged writing upside down. His gloved hands were unexpectedly warm.

“How did you know I’m from the country?” Ren asked curiously.

“You’re staring at everything with your eyes like saucers. I think everyone in the area knows you’re not from the city by now.”

Ren winced. 

“Here, I know where this is. You probably passed it already. Let’s go.” Akechi set off at a brisk pace and Ren scrambled to follow.

* * *

As a celebrity, Akechi paid close attention to fashion trends. It was useful for his personal life as well as for his appearances on talk shows. He actually considered himself a bit of a connoisseur on the topic, as he had studied it rather extensively. Thus, when he had eventually grown bored of watching Amamiya unsuccessfully try on pairs at random, it was only natural that he had ended up taking charge. 

He smacked Amamiya’s hand away from another terrible choice.

“No, not that one. You need glasses with a rounder lens to compensate for your angular face.” He slid a new pair onto Amamiya’s face and tsked. Rimless glasses weren't suiting him. Maybe a half-rim? He pulled the glasses off and put them back in place. Amamiya reached for a pair.

Goro shook his head disapprovingly. “Those are too big. Your pupils will be off center.” Amamiya frowned but obediently dropped his hand.

Here. A half rim cat eye. He slid them on. 

Amamiya’s eyes were entirely too distracting. Goro was supposed to focus on how the pair framed Amamiya’s face; not on how his long, sooty eyelashes framed his stupid gray irises. His eyes flickered open and shut and open, and Goro lost focus again. He exhaled, annoyed.

“Your eyelashes keep brushing against my gloves. Stop blinking so much.”

Amamiya huffed angrily, pointedly blinking five times in a row. He looked like Minnie Mouse whenever Mickey entered the picture. Goro laughed so hard at the image, he had to grasp his knees for stability. Amamiya was staring at him in confusion. “You looked like you were batting your eyes at me,” he explained, wiping a tear away.

Amamiya gasped in horror. He immediately crossed his arms and scowled, turning his face away: the very picture of chastisement. Goro stepped around to trade off the glasses for another pair, adjusting them so they rested higher on the bridge of his nose. Amamiya kept glaring at him, his mouth a displeased line. He was pouting, Goro realized, and it was actually kind of cute.

Hmm, he might have to go full rim at this rate. He hated all of these designs. Heaven knows why Amamiya even wanted glasses. He looked far superior without them. 

“Why do you want to wear these?” Goro asked, placing a new pair on his face. “I know several people with glasses who would do anything to get their vision back. You don’t even need them to see.”

Amamiya uncrossed his arms before recrossing them and shifting uneasily. “Someone told me they make me look stylish,” he said. 

“They were lying to you,” Goro replied, point black. He removed the glasses and fished for another frame.

Amamiya shrugged sheepishly. “Well, I think they do.”

“I question your taste.” Amamiya’s glance skirted away and Goro narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re lying. Why do you really wear them?”

“What do you mean?” Amamiya asked. Goro slid a new pair on and made a face.

“I doubt anyone would have told you that these make you look good.” 

Amamiya raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Really? That’s what you’re basing your argument off of? That no one would have given me a compliment?”

“Yes. Now tell me the truth.” Goro removed the glasses and put them back.

“Why do you care?”

Goro shrugged. “I don’t. I’m merely curious.” 

Amamiya frowned. “Well, I don’t know if there’s a good explanation really.”

“As I said, I’m curious. I have an interest in human behavior.”

“You make me sound like a research subject.” 

Goro didn’t like that word. “I’m an academic, not a scientist.”

“I’d say you’re more of a philosopher if anything. Those are basically social scientists.”

Goro crossed his arms menacingly. “Stop trying to change the topic.”

Amamiya sighed. “Fine. I wear them mostly because they help me feel like I’m not being stared at.”

Goro narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “So you’re hiding.”

Amamiya’s mouth twisted unhappily. “Why would you say that?”

“Glasses make you appear timid and diffident, when in reality, you’re passionate and opinionated. Thus, you want to look meek—avoid standing out from the crowd. I just can’t figure out why. You’re really quite the conundrum, Amamiya.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m opinionated,” he protested.

“We’ve been texting for the past two and a half days straight and neither of us have run out of things to argue about. You wasted half an hour of my life trying to convince me that Black Condor is the true übermensch of Feathermen.”

Amamiya exhaled. He had no right to look so vexed.

“You said an übermensch imposes their values on the world, often through violence. That's what Black Condor does. Literally what other measure is there?” he asked dryly. 

Goro scoffed. “As I’ve already explained to you, he has no consistent values to impose!” 

Amamiya rolled his eyes. “Agree to disagree. That aside, we’ve been like-minded on plenty of things too.”

“That’s true,” Goro conceded. “But if you didn’t have even a single clue, you wouldn’t be half as fun to argue with.” 

He found a rounded full rim pair with a subtle cat eye. Amamiya held perfectly still as he adjusted them. The lens was wide and well-placed enough to preserve the sight of Amamiya’s curly eyelashes. Goro never liked it when the eyelash line blended in with the frame. 

“I think this is it. You can go check out now.”

Amamiya immediately turned to check his reflection in the mirror, eyes widening.

“Hey, these are pretty nice.”

“Of course they are. I chose them after all.”

The edges of Amamiya’s mouth curved up. “I’ll be right back.”

Goro watched as he made his way to the counter. Within seconds, he was back.

“Akechi!” Amamiya whispered. “These are designer-wear. I can’t afford it.”

Goro frowned. “My apologies, you didn’t give me a budget.” 

Amamiya did not look impressed. Goro grabbed the glasses back and checked the price. It was lower than he expected. It was actually a very good deal.

“Amamiya, this is a designer store. These are probably on the lower end of the spectrum. They’re on sale as well.”

Amamiya sighed dolefully. “I guess I’ll come back after I get a job then. Or I’ll just go somewhere cheaper. Sorry to have wasted your time.”

Goro got an interesting idea. “No need. I’ll get these for you.”

"Ha ha, very funny," Amamiya replied, deadpan.

"I'm not joking, Amamiya."

Amamiya side-eyed him. “Um, no. I can’t let you do that. They’re too expensive.”

Goro had been the one to break his glasses in the first place, so with this, his debt could be repaid. It wasn’t like it was his money anyway. Shido covered his living expenses in return for his services. He wouldn’t even notice. Goro might as well get something out of being the personal hitman and son of a multimillionaire.

“I can really afford it. I have a good job.”

“It’s unnecessary, Akechi.”

“I would be insulted if you wore any other glasses but the ones I personally chose for you.”

Amamiya frowned. “That’s egotistical.”

“As we’ve established, you have bad taste.” Amamiya made a sound in protest but Akechi ignored him and soldiered on. “So I’ll get these for you on one condition.”

Amamiya’s eyebrows scrunched together suspiciously. “What condition?”

“You’re not allowed to wear them when we spend time together.”

“Seriously?” Amamiya asked incredulously. “ _That’s_ your condition?”

“Yes.” If Amamiya ended up feeling indebted to him because of this, that wouldn’t be a bad outcome.

Amamiya bit his lip. “Are you certain it isn't too much?” 

Goro could sense him caving. He just needed a little push. “As I said, my job pays very well. I’ve spent more on a nice sweater. Besides, I was the one who broke your glasses in the first place.”

“Are you really sure?”

Goro sighed in exasperation, snatched the glasses out of Amamiya’s hand and walked to the checkout counter. Within minutes they were out of the store. 

They'd sold the glasses in a sleek case which Amamiya slipped into the pocket of his black sports blazer. They stood outside the shop reluctant to part. Amamiya traced shapes into the dust of the storefront with the tip of his shoe. The movements of his flexed toe were unexpectedly adept. Did he dance?

“I’m going to play billiards at a club. Do you want to come along?” 

If Amamiya wasn’t busy, he might as well keep Goro entertained for a while longer.

Amamiya agreed wordlessly, and Goro led the way to Penguin Sniper. He hadn’t noticed until their conversation over the glasses, but Amamiya really was a little shy. He carefully avoided eye contact with everyone passing them and stayed close behind Goro, keeping his hands in his pockets like he wanted to turn invisible. It was strangely endearing.

But then, they walked by a little girl with a fistful of marbles. She accidentally dropped them onto the street right as Goro and Amamiya passed, and they scattered everywhere. She began sobbing. Careless child. Why had she even taken them out in the middle of the road? 

Amamiya stopped and crouched down to help collect the round glass pieces, speaking soothingly to the kid despite his previously established reticence. He was so full of contradictions, Goro couldn’t puzzle him out. Before he knew it, Goro had been roped into helping as well. There were still many marbles missing after a few minutes of searching, but the girl gave them a wide grin with two missing front teeth and waved them on their way. Her mother smiled at them gratefully.

“She looked like a little vampire,” Amamiya said fondly, after they had walked away. Goro added _good with children_ to his rapidly expanding schema of Amamiya Ren. 

“She really did,” Goro replied, beginning the ascent up the stairs to the club.

He paid the fee as Amamiya watched an ongoing game of darts with interest. Penguin Sniper did not charge per person but per type of game and time. A lot of huge parties took advantage of the deal. Goro couldn’t imagine having that many people to play with.

“Have you played billiards before?” he asked, when they reached their allotted baize.

* * *

Ren’s parents had tried to take him to a company business party only once. He had died of boredom before he had glued himself to the billiards table, watching the men and women try to one up each other at the game. One of the adults had eventually noticed him and tried to guide him through some of the motions. It was really only to be nice though. He hadn’t been allowed to play a full game. He had still been a kid to them. 

How to answer Akechi?

“Not really. I’ve held a cue though.”

“I’ll run you through the basics.” 

Akechi gave him a quick explanation of scoring and the rules before correcting his posture with the cue.

“Are you ready?” 

Ren nodded.

“Then let’s start.” Ren admired the smooth curve of Akechi’s back as he got into position; he had the air of a professional. He made the shot.

“Oh, my apologies. A break ace.”

“That’s your win, right?” 

“It was just a coincidence. Of course, this game won’t count. Let’s start over.”

They replaced all the balls in the diamond shaped rack, Akechi rolling them on the table a few times before aligning them in the right place.

The first time, Akechi wrecked him completely. Ren almost wished he had taken the L with the break ace; it was a more noble defeat than this one. 

They played a few more games and Ren quickly began getting the hang of it. Akechi looked almost impressed. In the last game, he finally had Akechi in a tight spot, but he missed the critical shot. He should have gone for more power; the ball fell just short of the pocket.

Akechi smiled. “That one was actually quite close. I suppose it would have been kind of embarrassing to lose as your senpai, huh?” Akechi rested the cue down on the floor, his hips angling the opposite direction.

Hmm. Ren bit his lip, thinking back to the moment Akechi had introduced himself. Hmmmm. 

“Aren’t you left-handed?”

Akechi’s eyebrows flew up.

“I didn’t expect you to notice, Amamiya. I switched hands for the game. It’s nothing against you, it just would have been kind of gauche going all-out against a beginner. I’m actually rather dexterous with my right hand. I can even use chopsticks with it. Frankly, I didn’t expect you to see through it.”

Ren narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. “Don’t hold back next time.”

Akechi smirked. “It’s a nice idea, but I destroyed you. If you can actually win against me when I’m using my right hand, then we’ll see.” 

Ugh. Ren had never been so pissed about losing before. It was kind of unnatural. But there was nothing he could do about it now, their time was up. He’d come back to practice before he faced Akechi again. He couldn’t stand the idea that Akechi was holding back anything from him. The other boy likely felt the same way if his strange condition at the glasses store said anything. 

Akechi’s eyes glowed red in the dim light of the club. He gave Ren a smug smile. “Here, to finish off the night, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Ren had quickly learned that Akechi was fond of ambiguity in text and in speech. He especially liked to word things to get reactions out of Ren, but Ren wouldn’t give in. 

He smiled serenely. “Lead the way.”

* * *

Goro was glad he had chosen a night with a singer to be Amamiya’s first introduction to Jazz Jin. They were both too tired to have their usual type of conversation and the beautiful voice echoing through the bar meant their intermittent silences were not awkward. 

“I love these kinds of places,” Amamiya said eventually. His voice was soft, dripping with sleepiness. “They always have a nice atmosphere.”

“I agree. I actually like that not many people know about it. I think it makes it more intimate.” Goro stretched leisurely, feeling his joints crack. “I often come here on Fridays to do school work. This is the first time I’ve brought someone with me. Work and obligations take me to quite a few restaurants and cafés, but this place is a little more special. I guess you could call it my go-to place. Do you have anywhere like that?”

“In Tokyo? Not really… or not yet.”

“What about back in your hometown?”

Something jagged like grief flitted through Amamiya’s eyes. Goro almost regretted asking.

“Well, I guess I’ve lost a few places like that.”

Goro knew the feeling all too well. The good foster homes, the nicer schools, his mother’s arms. A tetris grid of loss inside of him, the angles never quite fitting together into a smooth shape. What had Amamiya lost? Was he homesick?

They sat there together, letting the music wash over them. Goro yawned, triggering an answering yawn in Amamiya. They talked for a bit about jazz and other music genres. Amamiya apparently liked a genre called jazztronica. Goro was skeptical if it was even real. They promised to trade playlists.

Once the singer’s performance was over, they dragged themselves together and stumbled out of the club towards the station. It was late and they were both heading for Shibuya. Amamiya would transfer to Yongen Jaya there. They found seats on the train next to each other, and Amamiya’s shoulder was a warm line against his own. Goro didn’t move away.

The idea of anyone being physically close to him or touching him had always given him a nauseating sense of repulsion. But Amamiya didn’t touch to control or insinuate or infringe. Contact for the sake of contact, perhaps as an expression of familiarity or fondness. It was as unfamiliar as it was intoxicating.

The train was basically empty. They talked in a whisper anyways, unwilling to break proper etiquette.

“You said you go to the jazz bar on Fridays right? Could I come with you again next week? I really liked it.” 

Goro hesitated. “I’m glad you’re so taken with it. However, I think it’s important to inform you that my job takes a lot of time away during the weekdays, and I usually have a lot of work to do on Fridays to catch up. This week, I had a lighter load, but it’s definitely not the norm. I may not be able to dedicate so many hours to idle chatting in the future.”

“I’m starting school Monday, so I’ll probably have homework to do too. If I would distract you though, no pressure,” Amamiya reassured.

“Hmm, well if you have work to do then it should be fine. We can text about it later.”

“Speaking of meetings, are we still on for tomorrow?” Amamiya asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I would say so. Let’s meet at Shibuya’s underground walkway at 4:30 pm. My school will be over by then and I can get a little work done before. Does that sound good?”

Amamiya nodded slowly in agreement.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence, nearly dozing off several times.

A calmness he was unaccustomed to ebbed and flowed through Goro’s body in waves. ~~He almost didn’t want their station to appear.~~

Later, some time after they had parted ways, Amamiya texted him goodnight again along with another thank you and a promise to pay him back. He replied there was no need, sent a goodnight back, then curled under his sheets to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your response to the first chapter! It was more than I expected and very very encouraging. I will reply to any remaining comments from chapter 1 post-haste. :-)
> 
> This story is going to have so much fluff. If you think Akechi is sugar daddy, just wait till Ren spots a certain silver bangle in the Underground Mall haha. We are currently on the Friday before Ren joins Shujin. In the original game, he arrived on Saturday.
> 
> I thought a lot about Akechi buying Ren's glasses and his motivations for doing so. 1. To repay back his "debt" from breaking Ren's glasses in the first place. 2. To spend Shido's money. 3. To make Ren like him (haha yes this is how friendship works, buy them gifts). 4. Because it would have been a waste of his time if Ren didn't end up wearing them. I hope it didn't come across as ooc. 
> 
> I leave it up to your discretion what the two boys were debating about through text (other than time travel and Feathermen). I'm pretty sure they could debate the merits of the color red and not get bored with each other. I headcanon that street cats follow Ren around like ducklings cause they know they're gonna get cuddles. This headcanon emerged from the most brilliant Kosei Shuake AU fic by [tarm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarm/pseuds/tarm) called [rose pastel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113254) which I recommend to the moon and back! 
> 
> DTW: I don't think there is anything particularly triggering in this chapter but if there is please let me know and I will update this section.


	3. the body is a blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren and Akechi meet for their tour of Tokyo. Their plans get a little derailed.

Ren needed a job. First off, there was no shower in LeBlanc. To bathe, he had to go to the bathhouse across the street which cost 500 yen. Secondly, Sojiro consistently gave him breakfast (coffee and curry) but the other meals were sometimes a little…spontaneous. Considering he was basically freeloading off of the older man, it was understandable. Being able to buy even just some cup ramen to tide him over would be nice. Finally, he needed to pay back Akechi for the glasses he had bought him.

Ren still wasn’t sure why Akechi had even bothered. His condition was hardly equivalent to the cost of the frames. He dressed pretty fashionably though. His beige trench coat and loafers gave him a sophisticated vibe, along with his stylish long hair. Hmmm. Maybe he was secretly from a rich family? Ren’s parents were well off, they just weren’t interested in supporting him anymore. They had paid Sojiro to take him in and considered any parental obligation over. Ren bit his lip. At least they had been willing to pay Sojiro at all. They could have just kicked him out and he wouldn’t have been surprised.

As he passed by the walkway, he saw a wall of part-time job listings. Most required little to no experience. He grabbed one for the flower shop, which he was most interested in, then grabbed the beef bowl shop and convenience store listing just in case. He stuffed them into his pocket and hurried to the designated meeting spot. Akechi wasn’t there yet, so Ren leaned back against the station wall and pulled out his phone. They had been texting since morning again today. Ren sent him an ‘I have arrived’ message before calling the shops with part-time work listings and applying. All three places were quick to accept him without a résumé or an interview, which was a little suspicious. They were also incredibly flexible with his work schedule which was shady as hell. Maybe this was what Tokyo student work-life was like?

He scrolled through all of his cat photos. The cat that had first approached him was probably his favorite. She had started materializing in front of him whenever he stepped out of Leblanc for a break, allowing him to pet her. She liked curling up in his lap to sleep, and he had named her Snowdrop in his head. 

His glasses were yanked off his face. Akechi gracefully folded the frames before slipping them into his shirt pocket. 

Ren sighed grumpily. “Rude.”

“I’m merely following the terms of our deal,” Akechi replied cheerfully. He leaned over Ren’s shoulder curiously. “You have a lot of photos of cats.”

“Thank you.” He switched off his phone and slid it into his pocket. “So where are we going?”

“I thought we could eat at a café I like first. It’s in Kichijoji.”

Ren nodded, internally mourning all the yen spent on train fees. It was fine. He could start work tomorrow.

“What’s it called?” Ren asked as they walked towards the right subway line.

“Miel et Crêpes.”

Ren translated. “Honey and Pancakes.”

“Do you speak French?” Akechi asked curiously.

Ren shook his head. “Definitely not. I just know a few words.”

“Oh? Are you interested in France?”

Ren nodded. “I’d like to travel there one day.”

“Where would you go?”

“Well Paris first of course, but I’d also want to go to Nice for the pebble beaches and Marseille for all the museums and monuments. How about you?”

Akechi nodded. “It’s a bit of a dream of mine to take some time off after college to just travel the world. I want to go all across Europe: Germany, Denmark, Italy, everywhere. I think it would be enjoyable to just be a stranger in a different country for a while.”

“It sounds a bit lonely,” Ren said.

Akechi shrugged. “Not to me.”

They boarded the overcrowded train. There were no seats available so they had to stand in the middle of the packed subway car holding on to the handholds dangling from the ceiling. Strangers were gaping at them with an abnormal level of interest. Just who was Akechi? Ren looked longingly towards his friend’s pocket where his glasses were just visible.

“Have you read much Murakami?” Akechi asked, out of the blue.

Ren hummed. “I’ve read _After Dark_ and some of his short stories."

“That’s one of his lesser known works. Most people I know have read _The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles_ or _Kafka on the Shore_.”

Ren shifted, changing his grip on the hand railing. “I tried some of his longer works but I couldn't get into it. To be honest, I don’t really like Murakami.”

“Why not?” Akechi asked curiously.

“Well, I feel like all his male protagonists are pretty similar, and in my opinion, unlikeable. He also writes female characters in a way that grates on my nerves. I think Mari from _After Dark_ and the narrator from “Sleep” are the only exceptions. They’re the only two stories that have stuck with me.”

“That’s a reasonable assessment. To me, that says he knows how to write well-developed, complex female characters but chooses not to for a reason. In my opinion, it reveals limitations in the world view of his typical male heterosexual narrators. I think it’s intended to be grating.”

“Why did you bring him up?”

“His work bears a fascinating relationship with the subterranean underground. I often think of him when I ride the subway.”

Ren tilted his head curiously. He hadn’t read enough Murakami to understand what Akechi was talking about. He bumped his shoulder purposefully against Akechi’s. The other boy seemed surprised at the casualness of the gesture.

“Say more,” Ren demanded. 

“Okay. Well, in many of his stories, the underground is a crossing over point to a parallel world. He’s a magical realist so it’s all a bit Alice-in-Wonderland-esque. However, I would also say that Murakami is deeply interested in psychology, so these worlds are useful for dissecting the psyche of the protagonist. In a sense, I would say the underground becomes a psychological space in and of itself. One of his most interesting publications, in my opinion, roots this psychological space in our actual reality. It was a work of journalism.” 

“ _Underground_ , right?” Ren asked, the title suddenly coming to mind.

Akechi nodded. “We shouldn’t talk about it here though.” 

He was right. That was probably the least appropriate conversation they could ever have on the subway. The train jolted to a stop and Ren crashed into Akechi. 

“Keep your balance,” he commanded, steadying Ren with a gentle push to his shoulders. Up close, Akechi’s eyes were cognac: not fully brown or red. It was a striking color. His fluffy long hair was chestnut with rich hues of auburn and dark brown and Ren got the strangest urge to run his fingers through it.

“Sorry.” At least he had fallen towards Akechi and not the strict businessman behind him. That would not have blown over well. 

He thought of the politician who had fallen in front of him: the thick scent of alcohol rising from his clothes and the menace in his eyes when he had first caught sight of Ren—the stalking gaze of a lion in the wild. It had been dark and Ren could barely remember anything else. He only knew the sound of the man’s voice. There was a flash of refracted light—had he been wearing glasses? 

Akechi knocked into him, looking terribly uncertain as he did so. Ren’s first thought was that Akechi himself had lost his balance, until he realized that the other boy was trying to bump his shoulder back, like Ren had done to him earlier. It was cute.

“Hey, are you okay?” 

Ren nodded, dismissing the memories of that night. He wondered how Akechi would react if he learned that Ren was on probation. From their debates, Ren had gathered that Akechi had a firm trust in the justice system. If he knew he was actually friends with a criminal, Akechi… Akechi definitely wouldn’t be happy about it. Their friendship would probably be over. Was keeping his legal status on the down low morally questionable? Did it count as lying? 

“Pay attention, Amamiya. This is our stop.”

They exited the train, climbing up the platform stairs. The sudden influx of light was blinding as always. Ren followed Akechi blindly through the patchwork maze of streets and commerce. He knew all of the alleyway shortcuts. They arrived at a fancy café with green glass tables outside, and Ren resolved to only order coffee. Sojiro had given him curry a few hours ago anyway, so he wasn’t that hungry.

* * *

Amamiya had been distracted all afternoon and it was infuriating. After they had ended their conversation on Murakami, he had hardly even glanced Goro's way, staring pensively at nothing. People paid to see Goro live on their talk shows. Here Amamiya had him for free and he couldn’t even muster up the decency to look at him. 

Amamiya had more muted emotional reactions, but if Goro paid enough attention to his subtleties, he could somewhat discern how Amamiya was feeling. But right now, his expression was just empty. Loki encouraged him to kick the boy’s shins but Goro decided to take a more mature route.

“Your blank face is annoying me.”

Amamiya blinked slowly, like he was floating underwater. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said you’re being annoying. On the train you said you were okay, but you haven’t looked okay since we left the station.”

He winced. “Oh. I’m just kind of tired I guess. I need some coffee and then I’ll be right as rain.”

The expression was so…folk-ish it almost made Goro smile. Amamiya’s country roots were showing. 

“When did you first start drinking coffee?”

Amamiya crossed his legs, resting his palms on his bended knees. “I think around 15 is when I started drinking it daily.”

“That’s young. Personally, I only started enjoying coffee a few months ago when the caffeine became indispensable for my lifestyle.”

Amamiya’s eyes were finally smiling again. “I was obsessed with coffee when I was a kid. Every morning when my uncle drank his cup, I would ask for some too. He knew it was too bitter for me though, so he’d give me hot chocolate and pretend it was coffee.” Goro absorbed the details greedily. Over text, it was rare for Amamiya to volunteer any personal information. Not that Goro was any better. 

“When did you figure it out?” 

“I saw him make it one morning and got suspicious. So, I told him we should trade cups. After that, I didn’t want coffee for a long time.” Amamiya made a face, like he was still inside the memory. “He used to take it with cream but no sugar.” Goro laughed.

“My mother used to put so much milk and sugar in hers it tasted like dessert. When she wasn’t looking, I used to try to sneak sips. She didn’t want to give me coffee because she believed the caffeine would be bad for me growing up.” 

“Did she ever catch you?”

“Never,” Goro answered. “Or if she did, she never told me she knew. I thought she was pretty oblivious, especially since one time I drank half her cup and she didn’t say a word.”

Laughter spilled out of Amamiya and his gray eyes crinkled in amusement. Goro couldn’t help but feel a little proud that he had been able to make someone laugh so helplessly with one of his few good memories.

The waitress came back with Amamiya’s coffee and Goro’s pancakes. She had brought two mugs with her and Amamiya flipped both over. 

“How do you take your coffee now?” he asked. 

Goro blinked at him in surprise. “You don’t have to share with me.”

“I want to. That is, if you want coffee?”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t mind, I suppose. A spoon of honey and a splash of milk please.”

After a minute, Amamiya slid the mug over to him and Goro took a sip. Perfect. 

Amamiya filled his own mug, drinking it black. How had he developed a taste for such bitterness?

“So what’s the plan?”

Goro swallowed down a mouthful of pancake. “After this, I was thinking we could maybe head to Jimbocho. You like reading right?”

Amamiya nodded.

“There are many book stores there that we can peruse. Afterwards, we could always head over to Ikebukuro’s planetarium.”

Amamiya’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

The reaction was interesting. “Have you ever been to a planetarium?” 

He shook his head. “No, but you can see all the stars back home.”

“Then are you interested in astronomy?”

Amamiya crossed his legs the other way. “Kind of? I think I may actually be more of an astrology kind of person though.”

“Do you believe in it?”

“No. Or…maybe? I believe in a little of everything I guess.” He looked up at Goro sheepishly.

“A jack of all ways of life?”

“You could say that.”

“How very Paracelsian of you.”

Amamiya’s eyebrow twisted into a question mark. 

“He was an alchemist from the German Renaissance that believed in learning from people of all walks. It didn’t matter, professor, prince, or peasant. If they had knowledge, he was their student,” Goro explained.

"I would have been content if you called me a Renaissance Man," Amamiya said with a half-smile.

"For that title, you'd have to be a master, not a jack," Goro teased.

Amamiya clutched his heart and turned his face away.

"You've wounded us. How can Paracelsus and I hope to recover from such insult?"

Goro's lips twitched involuntarily. "Paracelsus is dead, so I'm not worried about him. And I think you'll survive just fine, Amamiya."

There was a sudden clamor on the street.

“Isn’t that Ace Detective Akechi?!” he heard a woman whisper. The other gasped.

“No way!”

Goro turned away in a hurry.

"I’m gonna ask him for an autograph!”

“I want a picture.” 

His fans had never seemed so grating before. Amamiya tilted his head, glancing at the strangers on the other side of the balcony.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, are you like famous or something? Even after you hit me with your bike, it was like the people around us recognized you.”

Goro sighed. He couldn’t hide forever. One of these days, Amamiya might see him on TV.

“Well, sort of? I actually work as a detective with the Tokyo Special Investigations Department. Since I’m still a highschooler, I’ve gotten some attention. I often appear on talk shows to try to bridge the gap between the public and the police.”

Amamiya stared at him in silence for nearly a whole minute before bursting into laughter. It was the first time someone had had that particular reaction when he told them about his job. It took almost three minutes for Amamiya to calm down. He finally took a deep breath and wiped away a tear.

“Are you in control of yourself now?” Goro hissed. 

Amamiya chuckled before clearing his throat. “The irony was overwhelming, Akechi. I have been talking down the criminal justice system to an actual member of the criminal justice system for many hours on end.”

“I honestly didn’t mind,” Goro said. “Your perspective is fascinating. I also agree with you on many points. You have nothing to fear.”

“I’m more amused than afraid to be honest. You should have said something,” Amamiya scolded.

“I didn’t want you to temper any of your opinions for my sake.”

Amamiya crossed his arms sternly. “I hope you don’t think I’m so malleable that I would change my opinion just because you’re an officer.”

“I’m hardly an officer. I just help out on some cases. Usually, I also get leftovers from the main department. It’s nothing too glamorous, Amamiya. And don’t worry, I know by now how stubborn you are.”

The gathering on the street of his fans was growing. Goro couldn’t hide his irritation. He hadn’t even finished his pancakes.

“I think we best be going. It’s only going to cause problems if I stay any longer. I wish I could blend in with just a pair of glasses as easily as you.” 

Amamiya’s eyes glinted. 

“Come here a sec.” He stood up in a swift motion and sauntered towards Goro. It was vaguely heart attack inducing if Goro’s quickening pulse was any indication. 

“Hey! What are you—”

Within seconds, he was being dragged back inside the café from their table on the balcony. Amamiya was running his hands through his hair and Goro didn’t know what he had done to give the other boy the impression that this was remotely acceptable. But Amamiya was being surprisingly gentle and his lips were curved up and his hands felt good and they were standing only centimeters away from each other and Goro was definitely going to get a heart attack at this rate. He was probably already in shock right now.

“Perfect,” Amamiya said before reaching for his glasses in Goro’s pocket. He smoothly slid the frames over Goro’s face and smiled so wickedly Goro wanted to punch him.

They returned to their seats and he reached for his compact in his briefcase. Amamiya had completely ruined his hair styling. He would have to comb it down before they left. The glasses that were somewhat decent on Amamiya looked awful on Goro. His pupils were so off-center.

His fans took one look and rapidly dispersed. “It can’t be him!” he heard one lady say in shock. “I don’t remember him looking like that!” 

“Aww, if he was the real thing I could have bragged about meeting him.”

Goro was in disbelief that such a basic trick had worked. It was almost disappointing. Immediately after the last of them left, he grabbed his comb and went to the nearest mirror to fix his hair. Amamiya trailed after him, leaning against a support beam. Goro made eye contact through the glass and frowned disapprovingly.

“I’m going to have to really watch my words around you in the future.”

Amamiya shrugged, cradling his coffee mug. “Hey it worked, detective. Besides, wasn’t it kind of fun?”

“You have a twisted concept of fun,” Goro complained. “Though if you let me dress you up next time, I might agree. You could be my stunt double. We’re aren’t terribly different in height, so I’m sure my clothes would fit you.” Goro hummed thoughtfully. “But if we do this, it’ll have to be carefully planned, of course. I’ll be dictating everything, from hair to accessories.”

Amamiya blushed to the tips of his ears. _Ha, not so nice when the tables were turned, was it?_

“It would be too obvious.”

Goro shook his head in disagreement. “Nobody would notice the switch, I’m sure of it. We proved it today—most people can’t see past the superficial.” 

Amamiya exhaled deeply like he wished he could disagree. 

Goro curled the strand of hair that fell over his forehead around a finger and let it go.

In the mirror, beside him, Amamiya brought his cup to his lips and drank down the last of the coffee. Goro watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He brought his mug down and looked up. 

Their eyes met in the mirror once again, gazes twining like cats. 

Goro looked away first.

* * *

He and Akechi found seats next to each other on the train ride to Jimbocho. They were both on their phones this time, and Ren liked that they could be silent and it didn’t feel awkward. What _was_ awkward was the tourist couple loudly squabbling on the other side of the car. He and Akechi glanced at each other, exchanged mutual looks of exasperation, then went back to their phones.

After a few minutes, Akechi nudged him, “I have to send you this. I just found the most amazing analysis of the Gray Pigeon arc.”

Ren gasped excitedly. “That’s my favorite one!”

“I know. Here I’m texting you the link.”

Ren saved the page in his reading list before going back to his home screen. He was so glad the subways had WiFi in Tokyo. He couldn’t believe Café Leblanc didn’t have a network. Maybe it would attract more customers if it did? He should suggest it to Sojiro, see what the man had to say.

The tourist couple’s voices raised a notch higher. “I’m telling you, Paul! We have to get off on the next stop. We need to transfer to Ginza.”

“Why the heck are we going all the way to Ginza, honey?”

 _Honey_. Ren mouthed the endearment. He sort of liked it. _Honey_ , _honey_. They both sounded like they were from an American soap opera. 

Ren was trying to get back to his sudoku app when the stupid malware eye thing caught his attention again. Agitated, he tapped on it to delete it for the third time. 

“I told you! My sister wants some Gunma-chan mementos and I promised her I—”

 _Beginning navigation_.

The world trembled and flipped over, flashing red, and for a second Ren thought they must be caught in an earthquake. He grabbed on to Akechi’s hand before everything went pitch black and he was tumbling down. 

*

*

*

*

Ren woke up to a railway track digging into his spine. His head was throbbing and a cut burned along his forehead. _Where was Akechi? Was he okay?_ He opened his eyes. Everything had a blue tinge, even the blood dripping down his face. His body pulsed with a dull ache.

The metro looked strange to say the least. Broken tracks twisted off in both directions. He was lying at a dead end which shouldn’t even be possible. The atmosphere here was oppressive, like being at the focal point of a thousand eyes. Abhorrent. Nausea bubbled up in his chest; the taste of bile in the back of his throat. In the distance, he saw a faceless hulking giant with long claws and a white skull mask lumber past. His vision was kind of blurry from the blood dripping across his eyes, but it seemed not to notice him. 

So…he was definitely hallucinating. 

He rolled over onto his back. A figure in a red plague doctor mask stared down at him. Ren flinched backwards so hard he almost gave himself a concussion. 

He scrambled to make the most sense of things. Apps could only do so much. He had probably been drugged, kidnapped, then brought down to an abandoned section of the metro to be murdered by a stranger. What a wonderful end to his short, pathetic life. 

The figure took a step forward and Ren scooted backwards, trying to slow his hastening breaths. He was fine. He was good. He was okay. 

He was alone. He was injured. He was going to die. 

His vision went blurry, all the colors falling into each other like they were twisting skyscrapers on collapsing earth.

* * *

Amamiya was having a fucking anxiety attack and Goro had no clue what to do. He moved forward and Amamiya blanched back. His face was covered in blood from a forehead wound and he was breathing in heaving gasps like he was dying from oxygen deprivation. 

Goro was not equipped to deal with this. Maybe he should just knock him out and take him back to his house? But considering they had fallen quite a few floors down into Mementos and Amamiya had taken the brunt of the fall damage (not having a Persona to protect him), knocking him out might give him a concussion, which would probably be bad. But, what else could he do?

Goro reached for his sword, which only made Amamiya panic further. Jeez, he was only going to use the hilt! Fuck, he was messing this up.

Loki left him in a rush of blue flames. _Oh, great. Loki was here to make everything even worse._ At least his outfit didn’t change. That might freak Amamiya out even—oh, shit. His outfit. He had the stupid bird mask on. He ripped it off.

Loki was holding Amamiya in his lap against his chest with the closest thing to gentle he possessed. His sharp claws were still dug deep into Amamiya’s shoulder, but the boy didn’t mind if his closed eyes and slowing breaths were any indication. Loki didn’t even need to actually breathe, but he was moving his chest up and down nice and slow. Goro uncomfortably remembered how many of his own panic attacks the Norse god had comforted him through. He should be the expert by this point. Maybe he was only good at self-soothing? Well, since Loki was technically _him_ , some part of him had obviously known how to do…this. It just wasn’t the part currently residing at the forefront of him.

Amamiya’s breaths steadied after a few minutes, color returning to his skin. Goro stepped closer. Loki was still holding on to the boy and Goro hissed at him mentally to let go. Loki ignored him because when had he ever, _ever_ obeyed Goro?

Goro crouched down so he was level with him. “Amamiya.”

The boy’s gray eyes opened and he turned rapidly, tumbling out of Loki’s lap to reach for Goro’s shoulders. “Akechi! Are you okay?” Amamiya froze at the sight of the prince’s costume. “Why are you dressed like that?” he asked, judgement dripping from his words. 

“I didn’t choose this,” Goro protested.

“I didn’t mean to sound accusatory,” Amamiya said softly. “I think we’ve been drugged. I don’t know where we are.” He frowned at the red mask in Goro’s hand. “ _That_ is straight out of a horror movie, though. I thought you were—well, it’s not important. Do you think you can remember anything?” 

It was infuriating how soothing his voice sounded despite the fact that he was literally the one having a panic attack 30 seconds ago. Even moreso, Goro detested that he was actually feeling soothed. 

“We haven’t been drugged. We’ve fallen into the collective unconscious. Here, can I see your phone?” Amamiya scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, but immediately handed it over. Tch, he was so naïve. Someone was really going to take advantage of him one day. 

He had already checked his own app’s history and Mementos appeared nowhere on the screen. The only explanation was that the app had appeared on Amamiya’s phone. And Bingo. There it was. They were in Aiyatsubus, and near the bottom too. Luckily, there was a safe level two floors up.

But why did Amamiya have this? 

“That’s malware,” he said looking over Akechi’s shoulder. “I’ve been trying to delete it, but I think it’s hacked my phone. It may be inducing these hallucinations somehow.”

“Unfortunately, you’re not hallucinating, Amamiya.” 

Goro wished they were. Amamiya being here next to him at all was beyond surreal. What the hell was Goro going to do about this? If he told Shido, he’d likely order Goro to kill Amamiya and the idea had become surprisingly unconscionable. Amamiya was nothing like the garbage Shido usually asked him to take out.

And Goro had always been alone in this world. This whole thing could be an accident; or, more likely, the god that had chosen him had chosen Amamiya as well. Had Amamiya been sent to Goro as some kind of messenger? Or did he have his own vengeance to complete?

A shadow caught his eye as it lumbered past, and Goro remembered they were in Mementos and by no means free from danger. It was a problem for later.

“Amamiya, we need to get moving. We aren’t safe here right now. How injured are you? Can you walk?”

Amamiya nodded slowly before standing up. Loki rejoined his soul. 

“So who was that?” Amamiya asked, staring at the place where Loki had dissipated.

“That was Loki. He’s my Persona.”

“He looked like an optical illusion,” Amamiya said with surprising enthusiasm. He traced the bloody cut on his forehead, glancing at Goro almost shyly. “And he was warm.”

How the hell was Goro supposed to respond to that? _I’m glad you think my soul is warm?_ Loki was trilling inside of him like a smug bird. Ugh, Amamiya was definitely touched in the head or something. Loki was certifiably insane.

“Come along.” Goro began walking towards the fork and Amamiya followed.

To go right or Left? Hmm. Right.

“How do you know which way to go?” Amamiya asked. 

“I don’t. Mementos is constantly changing. I’m just guessing.”

“What is Mementos?” Amamiya asked.

“It’s the place we’re in right now. Do you remember our earlier discussion about Murakami?” 

Amamiya nodded.

“This is a subterranean psychological space, but it’s real. We are physically traveling through the collective mind of the public.”

“Oh. Is that why it feels so…”

“Yes. The public heart is repulsive.”

Amamiya frowned like he disagreed. “So what’s a Persona?” he asked.

Goro tried to think back to when Wakaba had first explained things to him. At the time, he had fully believed Robin Hood was a hero of justice instead of a twisted refraction of his own soul’s deepest desire. He hadn’t had Loki quite yet.

“How much do you know about Jung’s theories?”

Amamiya had just opened his mouth to reply when a shadow appeared in front of them. It spotted them and transformed. Easy pickings. 

“Stay close to me,” Goro demanded, before launching at the first one with his saber. He dispatched it with a few strokes and leapt back, immediately shooting the next two until they collapsed. He obliterated the final one with a weak curse spell. No need to waste his stamina.

He turned back and Amamiya was staring at him in awe. “That was amazing.”

A rush of pride darkened his cheeks at the praise. “They were pathetic weaklings. No trouble for me.”

They continued along, Goro dispatching more shadows along the way. He explained things as simply as he could between battles. Amamiya wasn’t questioning anything, which either meant he grasped things quickly or he still thought he was hallucinating. When he boldly prodded at the viscous red tendrils climbing up the side of the walls like capillaries, Goro figured it must be the latter.

“Don’t touch anything,” he ordered. Amamiya dropped his hand and gazed at Goro with wide-eyed innocence, as if to say ‘who, _moi_?,’ before he tripped across a broken metal beam, only catching himself at the last second. Goro bit back a laugh. 

Traversing Mementos on foot was the worst. He wished he had his bike. They turned the corner, and -oh, look: more shadows. Was there no end to the filth of this world?

With every fight, the admiration in Amamiya’s eyes bloomed brighter. Who knew flaunting his fighting prowess—not crushing him in billiards or winning another argument—was the way to get Amamiya to look at him like this? Not that he’d ever really intended to get Amamiya to admire him. A worthy rival was much more interesting than a follower. But even rivals had healthy doses of admiration for each other, right?

“You’re incredible.” 

Goro’s cheeks burned up. He wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear that so he just ignored it. 

He opened the door into the final passage expecting the landing to go up, but it was the down passage instead. Ugh. They should have gone left.

“Hurry up,” he ordered, jogging back to the start. Amamiya was vulnerable in the cognitive world without a Persona. He already looked gaunt and tired, like his soul was slowly being drained out of him. The crimson capillaries around them throbbed as if they were being fed. Amamiya wasn’t complaining or freaking out though, so at least he had recovered his mental fortitude. They had been on this floor for god knows how long. 

Goro opened another door to a dead end. There was only one hallway now that the path up could be. 

The rattle of chains shook every cell in his body. The world pulsed red. Combined with the blue light of Aiyatsubus, it was like a police siren was going off.

He cursed violently and Amamiya looked at him like he had grown another head. 

“Start running right now,” he ordered. They began sprinting towards the last door, but they weren’t fast enough.

“What _is_ that?” Amamiya asked in horror, glancing over his shoulder.

Goro cursed even louder. The Reaper was right on their trail. It shot at them and they separated to avoid the one shot kill.

“Listen to me. I can hold it off. You need to open that door and wait for me on the landing.”

Amamiya stared at him blankly.

The Reaper was concentrating.

“I can escape, you imbecile! But if you don’t go right now, you’re going to die.”

“But—”

Goro shoved Amamiya towards the door angrily before jumping out of the way of the Megidola. The heat blistered across his skin. Goro quickly debuffed the Reaper before springing back from another gun attack.

He hit it with Eiga, but it did nothing. The Reaper seemed to have an infinite amount of health. Goro had only ever had one other run in with the creature, and he had honestly hoped to never meet again. 

Sharp blue strings surrounded him on all sides. They sliced in one motion. Vorpal blade. Fuck. He tried to catch his breath, but his health was definitely depleted. One more hit and he would be out. 

Goro tried to come to terms with the idea that he was going to die in Mementos without completing his revenge. It sickened him, but he couldn’t see a way out of this. He was half-crouched over on his knees when a voice trickled in his ears. 

He lifted his head up and Amamiya was standing in front of him, pale as a ghost.

* * *

The panic kept crashing through him anew, like his body was pumping terror into his veins rather than blood. His vision blurred.

“ _What’s the matter? Are you simply going to watch? Are you forsaking him to save yourself? Death awaits him if you do nothing. Was your previous decision a mistake then?_ ”

Akechi was going to die and Ren would rather die than let that happen. 

The phrase echoed like a mantra in his mind and it was the only thing grounding him as he flew to his friend’s side. He didn’t have a plan, only desperation. 

Akechi stared up at him in horror, like he couldn’t understand why Ren was there, standing between him and the Reaper. 

Agony flooded into his nervous system. There was a nebula trapped under his skin, and Ren was disintegrating, his body a mere cradle for something incandescent inside. He screamed and screamed. Tears streamed down his face from the pain. “ _Very well… I have headed your resolve. Vow to me. I am thou, thou art I… Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name and release thy rage! Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained to Hell itself!_ ” 

The blue flames built up behind Ren like a pyre and his heartbeat roared in his ears, deafening loud. A blast of energy threw the Reaper backwards. Ren was detonating. 

There was something smooth and cool covering his face. He reached for it with shaking hands, ripping off his mask in a violent, excruciating motion. Blood spurted from his face before everything dissolved in blue flames. They burned away at all the unworthy, weak parts of him. Power coursed through him. 

“Come!”

Black feathered wings blasted outwards as his Persona laughed into life. 

“I am the pillager of twilight—Arsène! I am the rebel’s soul that resides within you. This power of mine is yours!” They sealed their contract. The bond anchored deep within Ren’s soul, awakening a seductive rush of power and bloodlust. It wrapped around him protectively, like a chainmail veil. 

The Reaper made a sound like screeching metal before sending a current of white-blue energy towards them. Ren grabbed Akechi's hand and Arsène wrapped them up in his silk-raven wings. The energy arked off his Persona’s feathers like water sluicing off an umbrella. 

Akechi turned to him.

“Why the hell did you come back?!” 

“I couldn’t leave you.” 

Akechi’s eyes widened before he crossed his arms and glared.

“Listen to me, you fool. You won’t be able to stand one hit from that thing. You have to dodge, understood? One hit and you’re dead.” 

Ren nodded, adjusting his scarlet glove. 

“When I say go, we will run from either direction and get to the platform. You go right, I go left. You did open the doors right?”

Ren nodded again. He goes right, Akechi goes left. It mirrored their dominant hands. 

The Reaper revved up for a big attack. 

“Okay. Go!”

He and Akechi sprinted in opposite directions. The Reaper spun around, confused. It finally settled on attacking Akechi. Before it could cast anything, Ren sent a Cleave its way. His own health depleted from the skill.

The Reaper turned towards him and Ren could feel its anger even though it was wearing a literal sack on its head. He darted forward even faster.

Akechi hit it with a curse spell making it howl in fury and spin back around.

They sprinted through the doorway, meeting back at the apex of their roundabout. They hit the platform running, clambering on, dripping sweat and blood. The Reaper dissolved into dust right as it was about to shoot them to bits. 

Then, he and Akechi were in a heap on the ground, trying to recover. The adrenaline was still drumming through Ren's body, all his senses sharpened to razor edges. He exhaled and the madder trace in his vision gradually cooled back to gray. Akechi’s bony elbow was digging into his ribs, but Ren was pretty sure he was kneeing Akechi’s stomach, so it was fine. He had tassel in his mouth from Akechi’s stupid epaulets. Blegh.

He had to know. He lifted himself half up, staring straight into Akechi’s eyes, dead serious. 

“When you said this wasn’t a hallucination, did you really mean it?” 

Akechi’s eyes blazed with rage, turning dark maroon like blood. 

“For the last time, Amamiya, yes!” 

He shoved him away harshly before rolling over to gasp for more air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other than all the Akechi interactions, this is probably the biggest change going into cannon. My interpretation of Ren is that he's good at functioning / being cool for or around other people but when he's by himself he's sad boi (kind of). In game, Ren is rarely alone, like ever, and when Mona leaves during the Okumura arc he's pretty distraught. Thus, we never see him not being Joker since he's always around one of the PTs.
> 
> Also, I really do think Sojiro would be down for feeding Ren more, Ren's just hesitant to ask and Sojiro is not quite on Dad mode yet so there's some miscommunication. Murakami's book, Underground, is about the Tokyo Sarin Gas Attacks so that's a nope conversation to have on the subway.
> 
> Detailed TW: Ren has an anxiety attack. It's pretty detailed. Goro does not respond well. Also, there's a bit of violence in this chapter. Please take care.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos!
> 
> Edit 7/18: Corrected a misspelling. Thanks to lady_peony!


	4. let darkness keep her raven gloss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren and Akechi fight their way out of Mementos. Conversations are had at the bathhouse.

In truth, it was hard to look away from Amamiya. He was half woven from dusk with his ebony tailcoat and gloves, dark crimson like the last glimpse of the sun. He glided towards foes with lethal intent, coat fluttering silently behind him like the tail feathers of a raptor. His knife was a twisting ribbon of steel in his hands, and he battled with a combined elegance and blood-thirstiness that bordered on the sensual.

“Ravage them!” It was the _n_ th time Amamiya had yelled it, but Goro’s heart still shifted uncomfortably.

Moreover, he was wearing heels—well, heeled pointy-toed boots, but it functioned the same. He was the same height as Goro now. His Persona, Arsène, was also attired in high heels, but its heels were literal blades. Goro was more than a little grateful that Amamiya wasn’t flashing a pair of knife shoes, but he was still surprised by how fluidly he was moving. When Goro had first noticed, he had been unable to hide his shock.

“How are you running in those?”

Amamiya looked down, as if he hadn’t even realized. “Mind over matter I guess.” He shrugged. “I’ve had practice.”

With that ambiguous comment in mind, Goro shoving down strange images back into his subconscious, they had gone on to devastate Aiyatsubus. Having another persona yielder at his side made crossing Mementos more like strolling through a garden. And Amamiya was inexperienced, but he wasn’t exactly holding Goro back. 

Ok. To be perfectly honest, Goro was kind of having a fantastic time, not that he’d ever let Amamiya know. They slaughtered everything in their path together. Goro let loose a little with his own blood-thirstiness and Amamiya did not seem disturbed in the least if his devilish laughter was anything to go by. Their first All Out Attack together was euphoria.

One more shadow and they were free to go.

Amamiya leapt onto its back, ripping off the skull shaped mask as he flipped backwards. The acrobatics had been unexpected, but Amamiya pulled them off with grace.

A single enemy. It was one of the flaming jack-o-lantern things. Goro hadn’t seen one in a while. If he had his bike, he could have mowed it over. 

Amamiya froze. 

“Hee Ho,” it threatened.

Amamiya covered his mouth with his hand. 

“What are you doing?” Goro hissed, prodding Amamiya with his elbow.

Amamiya didn’t look away. “It’s cute.” 

“It’s the enemy, Amamiya. It will murder you and laugh as your ashes drift away in the wind.” Goro was going to shoot it. He reached for his gun.

“No!” Amamiya yelled, batting his hand away from his holster.

The crypt-dwelling pyromaniac sent an Agi towards them. They both dodged with ease. 

Amamiya walked forward like he was entranced. Ugh. Goro desperately tried to remember if the jack-o-lanterns could induce any status ailments, i.e. brainwash. 

“Hee ho.”

Somehow, Amamiya had gotten his arms around it and was now stroking the little pumpkin like it was one of his cats. At first, it tried to squirm away, firing some errant fire spells, but before long, it settled down. After a second, it nuzzled its flaming head against Amamiya with something like affection. What the literal hell?

“Put that thing down right now, Amamiya!”

“But, Akechi!” Amamiya protested, his silver eyes wide and pleading. Goro wondered how Amamiya had survived up to this point in his life.

“No. Stop hugging it, you fool! Are you simple?”

Amamiya frowned rebelliously. Goro strode forward to yank the jack-o-lantern out of his arms. “Let go of it!” Of course the stupid pumpkin sent an Agi his way. His red mask got singed from the heat. Goro hoped his eyebrows weren’t affected. The other boy tugged back.

“Amamiya, I swear!” Goro threatened.

Suddenly, the pumpkin disappeared in a hail of coins, tired of being the rope in tug-of-war. Amamiya looked like someone had shot his cat.

“Stop pouting this instant,” Goro demanded. “You couldn’t have brought it home with you, anyway.” 

Amamiya did not look consoled. 

“Look, it left us a nice gift,” Goro said, handing some yen over to the other boy, hoping the glittering currency would distract him. Amamiya looked down at the coins like Goro had handed him a fish. 

“Why was it carrying money?”

 _Maybe because your cute, little pumpkin friend was a serial bank robber_ , Goro thought to himself. “I don’t know,” he said out loud. “But most shadows carry some cash on them.”

They climbed up to the safe level where Goro could re-access the cognition app. He transported them back up to the entrance and then to the real world. They were at the station, in an area under construction. Amamiya looked half dead, like a zombie. Goro remembered again that the other boy had awakened to Arsène for him, and the thought burned a little too hot. 

His face was still bloody. Goro reached for the handkerchief in his pocket to dab at the laceration on Amamiya’s forehead. Luckily, it was too thin to scar. Head wounds tended to bleed excessively.

“Is that a real handkerchief?”

Goro sniffed. “It may be an old-fashioned custom, but it comes in handy.”

Amamiya raised an eyebrow. “I think my grandfather used to carry one.”

“As someone directly benefiting from the existence of my handkerchief, you have no right to needle me,” Goro informed him. _Ungrateful street urchin_. 

Amamiya winked at him cheekily. 

Once Amamiya no longer looked like the victim of a heinous crime, they entered the main sector of the station. Goro threw his handkerchief away in the nearest trash can; it was beyond saving.

“It’s too late now to go to Jimbocho or the planetarium,” Goro said with some regret.

“Then come over for dinner,” Amamiya suggested. “I think there are some things we need to talk about.” And Goro couldn’t say no. They boarded the train to Yongen Jaya, functioning as a single exhausted unit. 

Amamiya had saved his life. _I couldn’t leave you_ —the words echoed in his mind on loop. Goro looked up from his phone to his rival, who was staring out the window silently. He didn’t know who Goro was or what Goro had done. He didn’t know anything.

The subway stopped at a tiny platform and they climbed out into the evening. The backstreets of Yongen Jaya had a distinctly cozy aura even though they were still in the city. A white bundle of fur balancing on the fence greeted Amamiya by jumping into his arms. Amamiya cooed and immediately began petting the creature.

“Akechi, meet Snowdrop.” Of course Amamiya had named the street cat.

Amamiya pushed the cat into Goro’s arms, and he had no choice but to accept. 

“I think she likes you,” he said eagerly, right before Snowdrop leaped out of Goro’s arms and bolted into the alley. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Goro said sarcastically. 

They walked towards a small café and Goro wondered what they were even doing there. The bell rang as they entered. 

“Ah, you’re back,” the man behind the counter greeted. He looked like a no nonsense sort of fellow. Somebody shaped a little too rough by life. Weathered hands, sharp eyes. He was probably the café owner.

“Sojiro, this is my friend Goro Akechi. Akechi, this is Sojiro.” _Friend_ , there was that word again. The café owner looked at him with interest. Goro wondered if this was the uncle Amamiya had talked about earlier. The one who had given him hot chocolate instead of coffee when he was growing up. 

Goro smiled with all his charm. “Hello, sir. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry for intruding.”

Sojiro looked surprised, then shot an interesting look at Amamiya, which Goro couldn’t decipher. “Hey, nice to meet you too. I’m glad you’ve been keeping the kid out of trouble.”

“It’s more like he’s been dragging me into it,” Goro said. 

Amamiya gave him an offended look which Goro happily ignored.

“Hey kid, what did I say?” Sojiro scolded. 

Amamiya shrugged.

“Don’t be so nonchalant.”

Goro noticed that there was a chessboard on the bar. The pieces looked a little worn, but overall it was in good condition. Did Amamiya play? 

“Sojiro, if it’s not too much trouble, could we have some curry for dinner?” There was a certain out-of-place hesitancy in Amamiya’s voice. Goro doubted these two were family at all. He crossed his earlier theory out. 

The man sighed. “Jeez, kid. Give me a warning next time. I think there are some leftovers in the fridge I can heat up. In the meantime, you two should take a bath. Sun really tuckered you guys out, huh?” 

“Oh, is there a bathhouse nearby?” Goro asked curiously.

“Kid knows the way,” Sojiro replied. “Hey, lend him some of your clothes.”

Amamiya nodded before retreating upstairs. Did he keep his belongings here? 

“So how’d you meet the kid?” Sojiro asked. “I never expected he’d make a friend before he even started school.”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Goro asked curiously.

“I didn’t ask, he didn’t volunteer. You probably know how quiet he is by now.”

Goro wasn't sure he did, but he let it go. “I accidentally knocked into him with my bike. To apologize, I bought him some tea and we began talking. I guess we hit it off pretty quickly.”

“Sounds nice,” Sojiro said gruffly. 

Amamiya came bounding down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He had a pile of clothes, two fresh towels, and a basket with bathing supplies. At least he used a separate shampoo and conditioner; Goro wouldn’t have tolerated two in one. 

They headed over to the bathhouse just across the street, and Goro was surprised to find that there wasn’t a single other soul inside. It had been a long time since he’d been to one of these places. He had always liked them, even when they meant his mother was spending the night with another strange man. 

Going to the cognitive world was always so tiring. He and Amamiya had only traversed two levels and a risky encounter with the Reaper, but he was still feeling knocked out. Over time, he had realized how odd the connection between the two worlds could be. In the cognitive world, Goro felt like he could keep going forever if he just drank some energy drinks and ate something. As soon as he entered the real world though, all that exhaustion came back like a slap across the face. The fatigue wasn’t always consistent with how long he’d been fighting or how far he’d traveled either.

He thought back to the moment Amamiya had awoken to his Persona. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite moments to replay in his head. 

“Did you even have a plan?” Goro asked, re-securing his towel around his waist. They had settled on stools next to each other to rinse off before they entered the main tub. As they were sharing the same supplies it only made sense that they sat close.

“Hm?”

“When you ran towards the Reaper. Did you have some kind of plan?”

Amamiya paused. The sheepish look in his eyes told Goro everything he needed to know.

“You are a reckless fool with the luck of the devil,” he told Amamiya bluntly.

“And you have blood in your hair,” the other boy replied, scooting closer. 

For the second time that day, Amamiya’s hands were gently running through his hair. Surprisingly, Goro didn’t get the immediate urge to break his fingers. It was actually more of a melting sensation. Goro shifted uncomfortably. 

“Is this okay?” Amamiya asked, pausing in his administrations. “I want to thank you for keeping me safe in Mementos.”

A life for a life. They had saved each other today. No debts to be owed, the slate was clean. _Say that_ , he instructed himself.

“Hm, I suppose a thank you would be appropriate,” he blurted out instead because he was equally likely to say _Yes, this is wonderful. How can you make me so calm with just your hands?_ or _Who the hell do you think you are to make me feel like this? To touch me like this?_ and that would be disastrous.

Goro closed his eyes as Amamiya poured warm water over his head. He got the sense that he was giving in to something, but he was too tired to figure out what. 

Amamiya took his time, working his slender fingers through strands of Goro’s hair. His hands were so delicate, Goro was almost asleep when he finished. The other boy quickly completed his own ablutions. 

“Let’s go into the tub.” 

They awkwardly looked away from each other as they put aside their towels and slipped into the warm water. Luckily, the bath was cloudy with mugwort and other medicinal herbs. Goro’s tender muscles sang with pleasure. 

“I’m waiting for you to ask your questions,” he said after a few minutes, because he and Amamiya were dangerously close to just relaxing in a bath together which would be inappropriately intimate.

 _If anything was inappropriately intimate, it was you allowing him to wash your hair_ , Robin countered in his head. Goro already regretted that, but it was too late now.

Amamiya sank down into the water so only his neck and head were poking out. The steam made his curls stick to his damp skin, and his pale eyes were cloudy and pensive. Goro was rapidly preparing BS answers for anything he could possibly want to know.

“So do you just walk?” The words spilled out and Amamiya immediately looked like he regretted saying anything.

“What?”

“Down there. Do you just like, uh, walk around everywhere? Because it seems kind of tiring…and dangerous...”

Was _that_ his most pressing question? Goro bursted out in laughter, wiping away a tear. “You really keep surprising me. To answer your question, no, I don’t. If I bring my bicycle down there it turns into a motorbike, which is much faster than the method we used to travel today.”

Amamiya looked surprised.

“Motorcycles and bicycles are extremely intertwined in the public imagination. Since Mementos is a land of cognition, if I think of my bike as a motorcycle, it turns into one.”

Amamiya looked like he was trying to wrap his head around the idea of forms being so mutable. He would probably be more inclined to believe it if he could see it happen first. But for the foreseeable future, Goro had no plans of bringing him back to the cognitive world. It was too dangerous for both of them. If Amamiya figured out he was responsible for the mental shutdowns, Goro would have to kill him, and that was an undesirable outcome.

Amamiya finally seemed to give up trying to visualize his bike, changing topics. “So, why do you have to go there anyway?”

“It’s for my work. A section of the Special Investigations Department conducts research into cognitive psience. I was actually first involved with that sector before I became an investigator. A lot of this stuff is confidential.” 

Amamiya looked chilled. “So the government knows about an entire cognitive world underground and uses it for whatever they want?”

 _The truth was so much worse_ , Goro thought privately.

“Definitely not. It’s only one department of the government and it’s only for research and investigation. Most members of the government aren’t even aware of it at all. Its existence is somewhat difficult to prove, and there’s so much we still don’t understand about the Other World. We’re trying to find out what’s possible in a place like that and if that realm can be used to commit crimes.”

“The mental shutdown cases,” Amamiya connected. For a second, Goro wished he wasn’t so bright. It made lying so blatantly a little nerve-wracking.

“Yes. But don’t tell anyone about any of this. No one can know about the Cognitive World or about Personas or that I’m investigating it, Amamiya. As I said, this is extremely confidential.”

The gray-eyed boy sat up suddenly, sending a tiny wave over to Goro’s end of the bath. “Do you have to like, give me amnesia or something now that I know?”

Goro chuckled. “No, no nothing like that. This isn’t a Sci Fi movie. I think extracting a promise from you will be enough.”

“What do you want me to promise?”

“Never go back to that world by yourself. It’s for your own safety, trust me.”

“Okay, I promise.”

This was the best solution. Goro wasn’t ready to give up Amamiya as his rival yet, and this way he didn’t have to. Amamiya might have proved a useful ally in the cognitive world, but Goro couldn’t bear to get him tangled up in the Conspiracy or expose him to sociopath politician Masayoshi Shido. Amamiya was too weak. Shido would eat him up for breakfast.

After a few minutes of basking in the heat, Goro turned his attention to another matter on his mind.

“Amamiya, forgive me for asking, but I’m curious about the words your Persona said when you had your awakening. He asked if your previous decision was a mistake. What did he mean by that?”

Amamiya looped his fingers around his damp curls and pulled, his eyes drifting like ash.

“Well, you see, I’m actually on probation.”

Goro chuckled dryly. “Must we? Half your jokes aren’t even funny.” Amamiya being on probation was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. This was the man that fed street cats and helped random children locate their fallen marbles. This was the man that had been willing to give his life to the Reaper for Goro.

But Amamiya had none of his usual playfulness. His body was tensed up, stiff as a board. 

“It’s not a joke, Akechi. I was walking back home late one day from practice. I saw a drunk man harassing a woman. Nobody else was around, and I stepped in. I… I didn’t touch him, I swear. He fell over on his own and hit his forehead. Somebody had heard the woman screaming so they’d called the police. Before they arrived, he threatened her into corroborating his story, and so when they came I was arrested for assaulting him. It turned out he was some kind of politician, so I didn’t stand a chance in court.”

Goro exhaled unsteadily. He had never been great at empathizing with anybody, but something about the injustice Amamiya went through stung. Injustice at the hands of the same system Goro had so firmly been praising throughout their debates. If he needed any more confirmation that the world was screwed up beyond reconciliation, he'd found it.

Amamiya was still looking at him but there was loss in his eyes and he was already starting to turn away, his defenses rising tangibly like a hard, brittle shell. 

“You can leave,” he said firmly, as if Goro’s absence was a foregone conclusion. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

The words brought back their very first meeting when he had just gotten under Amamiya’s skin. The words also brought back the gray-eyed boy’s declaration just hours ago when facing the Reaper head on like a suicidal fool. _I couldn’t leave you_.

Goro sighed. “I’m quite comfortable here to be honest.”

Amamiya looked at him funny.

“That sounds like just the kind of naïve, reckless thing you would do, Amamiya. It’s agonizing to me that the system I am part of messed your life up so atrociously, especially when you were on the side of justice. To be honest, it’s beyond infuriating.”

“So...you believe me?” Amamiya asked cautiously.

Goro groaned, exasperated. “Of course I believe you, you dolt. I have spent a number of days with you now. I think I have a general grasp of your character, yes.”

Amamiya’s eyes widened, lightening to pearl. Goro looked away, flustered despite himself. It was surprising Amamiya had trusted him with this information despite knowing he was a detective. Goro couldn’t understand it at all. Still, the other boy had made him curious.

“Do you have a name?” he asked curtly.

Amamiya blinked in confusion, scrunching up his eyebrows. 

“Umm, it’s Ren Amamiya.”

Goro face-palmed. “The name of the politician, you fool.”

Maybe Goro could go to the Metaverse, rough him up a little, and force him to confess. It would hardly take much effort. He may even turn out to be one of the corrupt denizens of Shido’s cruiser, which would be cathartic for Goro as well.

Amamiya frowned. “I don’t. To be honest, even his face is foggy. I know I got a good look at him, but when I try to remember, the details just slip away.” 

That sounded characteristic of shock. Amamiya wouldn’t have confessed once he was arrested. He had committed no actual crime to confess. So, how many days had they held him for? How had they tried to wrangle it out of him? Who had been on his side?

“How did your parents react?” Goro asked curiously.

“To what?”

“To everything.”

Amamiya glanced away, his fingers still twisted tight around his curls. He yanked at his hair absentmindedly. 

“Well, they care a lot about reputation. They’re in business, so it’s just their mindset. The night of my arrest, I ruined it for them. They were pretty relieved to send me here for some time apart. I’m not sure if they want me back afterwards. I guess I sort of outlived my use for them? Even if I went back, my record is permanently damaged and by association, theirs.”

“That sounds kind of transactional,” Goro commented, trying to convey nonchalance instead of judgement. He didn’t want Amamiya to clam up from Goro implying the wrong thing.

The other boy laughed it off. “Well, my parents are married to their work, I guess. They love what they do. But I was kind of happy to come to Tokyo, despite the circumstances. I’ve always wanted to live in the city.”

It was a blatant attempt at changing the topic, but Goro complied. It was really none of his business.

“Oh? And how have you found city living so far?” 

“It’s a lot more… disconnected than I thought it would be.” 

Goro knew exactly what he meant. 

“Everybody is living their own life, and none of those lives intersect with yours,” Goro said. “It’s lonely.”

Amamiya smiled at him affectionately. “Well, I would say your life has intersected with mine.” 

Goro couldn’t deny that claim, nor could he acknowledge it.

“That’s just been my experience,” Goro said. “I think people in the city tend to be more superficial. There’s also more of an idol culture which can be stifling.”

“Do people have a lot of expectations of you?” Amamiya asked. 

“Yes. It can be exhausting,” Goro said, honest for once.

“Well, if you ever need a break, just come find me.” Amamiya’s mouth curved up playfully. “After all, I already came up with the perfect disguise for you.”

The offer felt genuine despite Amamiya’s usual drivel at the end.

“Oh yes, now that I think about it, we still haven’t discussed all the details of the other side of that exchange,” Goro said with a cheerful, threatening smile.

“I have no recollection of that,” Amamiya denied with ersatz gravitas.

“Do I need to refresh your memory then?”

“How do you plan to do that?” Amamiya asked insolently. 

“Hmm, I suppose I will have to set aside some time to think up a proper punishment for you. You did a number on my hair.” Amamiya looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Goro’s own skin was overly warm.

“Well, I just washed it. Doesn’t that count as me paying my dues?” 

“Perhaps,” Goro said thoughtfully, “I’ll let it slide for now. Anyway, I think we’ve been in here too long. Your skin is bright red. Let’s go eat so I can get back before the trains stop running.”

Amamiya nodded in agreement and they began the awkward process of leaving the bath and dressing without looking at each other. Amamiya’s pajamas were worn but comfortable. Fortunately, they weren’t childishly patterned or brightly colored. Amamiya stuck to a dark neutral palette which suited him well. Perhaps his tastes weren’t as hopeless as Goro presumed. He did wear a watch and a belt and seemed rather comfortable in suspenders. 

They walked back to the café afterwards, still a little damp. There was a woman who looked distinctly Goth sitting in one of the booths. Two bowls of curry and mugs of coffee were awaiting them at the bar.

“Hey kid, take it upstairs. I’ve still got a customer,” Sojiro ordered. Amamiya nodded before reaching for one of the curry dishes and the chess board. Goro grabbed the coffees and the other curry bowl before following Amamiya up the stairs.

“Is _this_ where you stay?” The words were out before Goro could stop them. The room was incredibly spartan and reminiscent of a storage supply closet. The futon rested on milk crates, the wooden shelves were filled with tomes collecting dust, there were cobwebs in the alcoves, and a large tarp on the floor held a random heap of belongings. He couldn’t see any trace of Amamiya’s things in the room, except for a medium sized cardboard box on one of the shelves that contained clothing. It brought back some memories of the not-so-good foster homes and Goro’s opinion of Sojiro fell a little. Did the older man know the real story behind Amamiya’s arrest? 

“Yeah. Sorry, I’m still in the process of cleaning it,” Amamiya explained, setting down the chessboard and curry bowl on the floor. “Anyway, I saw you looking at this earlier and thought we might play a game?”

“That sounds great. Have you played much before?” Goro asked. 

“I have some experience.”

Amamiya spoke so vaguely all the time, it made him somewhat hard to grasp. He had been straightforward today, though, when he had told Goro about the circumstances leading him to Tokyo. Goro wondered about the case file. He wanted to look through it, not because he doubted Amamiya, but because he wanted to find where the screw up had happened. Maybe get the name.

Goro adjusted the chess pieces as Amamiya grabbed a pillow from his bed to lie on. He tossed Goro the other one and Goro tucked it under his knee. He wondered what kind of player Amamiya was. White made the first move, so Goro slid his first pawn into place. They began in silence, eating curry as they analyzed the board and danced their pieces across the chequered squares. They were feeling each other out, a bit like the first part of sparring.

“I’ve often thought of an alternative to chess that would use the same pieces,” Goro said.

Amamiya didn’t say anything, trusting Goro would finish his thought.

“In this game, all of the movement patterns of the pieces would be switched so each piece would move like another one on the board, pawns excluded. You’d have to keep it consistent of course. Once you moved your knight like a rook, it would have to stay that way. The goal of the game would be to identify which piece is moving like the king and checkmate it like usual.”

“We should play it sometime,” Amamiya said, moving his bishop. “The subterfuge sounds fun. It might be hard to keep track of which pieces are which though.”

“There would probably have to be some kind of third party who would keep track of both players’ pieces. They could ensure nobody slipped up. However, I’m sure the both of us could do it just fine.”

“Which piece would you make the king?” Amamiya asked, advancing with his knight.

Goro smiled. “You can’t expect me to tell you that now. If we are going to play it, you’d have an unfair advantage over me.” He moved his bishop out of danger. Amamiya was a gambler. He made risky moves on top of risky moves, but it was somehow working out in his favor. He was also surprisingly clever with his traps and gambits. 

Goro was easily holding his own though. He had always favored a more aggressive, straightforward playing style, and it was obviously keeping Amamiya on his toes. He was a good opponent for Goro in this game as well it seemed. They operated in silence as more of the valuable center board territory was claimed and their stronger pieces came into play. 

Amamiya spoke without looking up. “I’d make my king a knight. They’re my favorite piece on the board.”

“Do you often get attached to game board pieces?” Goro asked patronizingly.

Amamiya laughed. “I try to limit myself to one piece per game.”

“It seems to me you get attached to all the wrong sorts of things,” Goro criticized.

Amamiya paused to take one of Goro’s pawns. He tended to capture and replace with the same hand, so the pieces spun between his fingers in a strange monochromatic waltz. 

“I can’t help myself.”

Goro decided to bite. “So why do you like the knight?”

“I like how they look. But, I guess, they also embody a kind of personal ideal.” What was Amamiya playing at? Why on Earth had he moved his rook there? “They move unconventionally, but they hurt nothing in their path. They can leap over any obstacle.”

“I suppose they are precise,” Goro said brightly before capturing Amamiya’s knight. It was only partly to be petty.

Amamiya took his time with the next move and Goro wondered if he had finally gained the upper hand. When Amamiya did make his move, he gave Goro a smile. It was a wicked, impish, terrible smile that was borderline smirk and just asking to be punched. A smile that meant he had a dozen tricks up his sleeve and Goro wasn’t privy to a single one.

Goro violently reached for the pawn he wanted to move, completely thrown off by the stupid look on his rival's face. 

The look that was rapidly transforming into horror and dismay.

“Akechi!” 

Oh. Goro stared incomprehensibly at the board. He had accidentally knocked a third of the pieces down with a swipe of his wrist. 

They stared at each other across the board for a small aeon, hoping the other had the positions of the pieces memorized. No cigar.

Amamiya scowled at him. “You did that on purpose.”

“I did not!” Goro protested.

“You knew I was going to win. That was sabotage.” 

“You weren’t going to win anything,” Goro argued. 

“Well now I’m not!” Amamiya grabbed the pillow and hit him softly with it once. “Admit it. You did it on purpose.” Amamiya whacked him with the pillow again. “Now concede the match.” 

“I will not,” Goro hissed, battering the other boy with his own pillow. In the end, Goro would maintain it was Amamiya who started it.

They traded violent, feathery blows. Amamiya tackled him, trying to gain the upper hand. Too easy. Goro threw him off and flipped them so he was straddling Amamiya. 

“How about you concede to me?” Goro asked, pinning one of his wrists down.

“Never,” Amamiya whispered dramatically. He rapidly extended his arm, getting the tight grip on his wrist to lighten. Then he twisted his hips up and heaved Goro off, reaching for his pillow to shower light blows on Goro’s torso. 

Goro seized him, pillow and all, pulling Amamiya down to the ground. The other boy tossed them over, but Goro immediately flipped them again, so now they were just rolling across the floor, pillows sandwiched between them. Amamiya was laughing his head off and Goro realized he was laughing too. 

They finally settled on their backs next to each other, gasping for breath. Goro’s sides hurt. It brought to mind the way they had collapsed onto the platform after escaping the Reaper, and that shouldn’t have been a good memory, but it was.

“Ouch,” he said, reaching underneath himself for the chess piece that was digging into his back. It was a knight. He tossed it away. 

“Truce?” Amamiya said, holding up a fist.

Goro knocked their fists together. “Truce.”

Amamiya nudged him with his shoulder. “Now help me find all the chess pieces.”

They had just put the last pawn back in place when Sojiro popped his head up the staircase. He looked taken aback by their general state of dishevelment, but seemed to decide it was not worth commenting upon.

“Hey, kid. I’m going to close up shop. I’ll be here in the morning to take you to Shujin. You better be ready because I’m not gonna wait.” 

Amamiya nodded obediently and Sojiro shuffled back down the stairs.

“I think that’s my cue to head out for the night. I still have some work to do,” Goro said.

“Do you want me to walk you down to the station?” Amamiya asked earnestly.

Goro refused and headed to the downstairs bathroom to change back into his uniform. It was still stiff with sweat, but Goro would be slipping into his pajamas the minute he got back home so it was fine.

“Now that I know where LeBlanc is, it might just become my go to cafe. I’m pretty sure that was the best coffee I’ve ever had.” 

Amamiya’s face glowed. “It wasn’t too bitter for you, Mr. Milk and Honey?” he teased.

Goro rolled his eyes. “No. It tasted fantastic with the curry. Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Amamiya.” It was the first homemade meal Goro had tasted in a long long time. He usually made do with an apple for lunch and takeout for dinner. 

“Any time,” the boy replied.

“Isn’t that kind of irresponsible for you to say when Sojiro is the one who’ll have to feed me,” Goro asked with a vicious smile.

Amamiya winced. “Harsh.”

“Toughen up,” Goro suggested. Then he awkwardly patted Amamiya once on the shoulder before fleeing to the station. 

The whole train ride back was spent pondering all of the things he hated about Amamiya. That smile was on the top of the list. His foolish, immature, childish behavior was a close second. The way he always got Goro acting like a child too. His obsession with cats and pumpkin monsters. His wiliness in chess. His incompetence in billiards. His stupid gray eyes and his stupid curly raven hair. The sheer audacity he had to touch Goro so casually and so warmly. How Goro felt like he had already known him for years. The list was endless.

What did Amamiya even want from him to be acting so…friendly? There were a myriad of possibilities but none seemed more likely than the others. The truth would eventually emerge; there was no point worrying about it. 

Besides, hiding something from Shido was its own thrill. The man controlled so many aspects of his life, there was almost nothing left that was even Goro’s anymore. 

After his revenge, there would probably be nothing left at all.

* * *

Ren was ecstatic. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Akechi. The way he threatened enemies at gunpoint. The way he yelled _Checkmate_! in Mementos every time they did the All Out Attack. The way he tipped over chess pieces when he captured them. The way he smirked when he thought he had cornered Ren. His dark eyes and silk hair. How he tucked the strands behind his ear when he was about to name drop another theory or philosopher Ren had never heard of. His smile every time he was about to say something acerbic. He preened like a bird and held his mug too tight, like he wanted the heat to transfer through his gloves to his hands.

He’d believed in Ren when even Ren’s own parents hadn’t.

And Akechi was a smug asshole sometimes, especially when he tried to win arguments by out-referencing him, but Ren couldn’t help the immense swoop of fondness that spiralled through him when the detective came to mind. 

He thought back to their excursion in the Mementos place. He still had a hard time believing everything that had happened today was real. From the existence of a parallel world to whatever unholy nightmare the Reaper was to Akechi freaking allowing Ren to touch his hair (twice!!), he felt a lot like everything was just one loopy dream. But Arsѐne was still with him, a warm, reassuring presence in the back of his mind. 

He wondered if it was too soon to text Akechi good night. It probably was, but he decided to do it anyway.

> **Amamiya** : Hee Ho

After a minute, the response came.

> **Akechi** : Do you want me to block your number?

Ren almost laughed out loud.

> **Amamiya** : No -hee- don’t -ho
> 
> **Akechi** : Don’t mess with me, Amamiya. I will destroy you.

Ren’s pulse fluttered. 

> **A** **mamiya** : I would love for you to try ;-)
> 
> **Akechi** : I am blocking your number now.
> 
> **Amamiya** : No wait Akechi! I just wanted to say good night!

The reply didn’t come for several minutes. Finally, after Ren had started wondering if Akechi had actually made good on his words, his phone vibrated.

> **Akechi** : Good night.

Would it be weird if he sent a heart? Yes, Ren decided. It would definitely be strange. Ugh, why was he acting like a grade school boy with a crush? 

Ren tossed his phone on to the window ledge so it could charge in peace. 

He curled over, pulling the comforter over his heated face. 

He was going to his new school tomorrow. Shujin Academy. He wondered what his homeroom teacher would be like and what the campus would look like. For a plethora of reasons, Ren hadn’t had great success in making friends back home. He’d had school mates of course, people he could eat lunch with, but he’d never really met with them outside of school. Maybe this was his chance. Worst case, he had Akechi. 

His heart did the weird gymnastics flip again.

Ugh, he was going to sleep. 

*

*

*

What felt like only minutes later, Ren startled awake. He was in a blue tinted prison. A heavy hit jolted the metallic bars and Ren sat up. His ankle was cuffed to a heavy iron ball.

Ren wondered if he had slipped into the cognitive world again by accident. 

He stood up and approached the bars, dragging his foot behind him. Two children dressed in blue with yellow eyes were staring up at him. There was a man with a long, beaked nose sitting at a desk.

 _Welcome to the Velvet Room._

They introduced themselves to him and talked incomprehensibly about ruin and rehabilitation. The twin wardens didn’t seem to like him very much, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. They explained some other things to him before Igor got a grave look in his eyes.

 _You have met another soul much like your own, Trickster. I advise you to stay away from such an untrustworthy figure if you wish to escape Ruin_.

*

*

*

Ren had no clue what that meant, but Igor was obviously done talking to him since he sent him back before Ren could ask. And wow, Ren literally felt like he hadn’t slept at all. That was not fun.

He got out of bed, going downstairs to brush his teeth and brew a cup of coffee for himself. Once he’d taken his first sip, he brought the rest upstairs to keep him company as he changed into his Shujin uniform. He liked the snug way the suspenders hung across his shoulders. It was kind of grounding. As he buttoned up the blazer, he reminded himself to stitch up his other turtleneck so he didn’t have to wear the same uniform for the whole week.

“Good. You’re ready,” Sojiro said when he came down the stairs. “Let’s go introduce ourselves properly to the staff about your transfer. Shujin’s in the Aoyama district, so it’ll take a while to get there by train. The transfers are a real hassle too. I’ll drive you there, but just for today. Let’s head out.” Sojiro was dressed in a white suit and a pink button up. The white blazer was just a little too tight. Only one button was done up. Ren followed Sojiro towards his car.

“Sheesh… men usually aren’t allowed in my passenger seat,” he grumbled.

Ren wondered if he was supposed to apologize or something.

His phone buzzed. Akechi had sent him a photo of the cherry blossoms and a ‘good morning.’ It seemed he had taken the photo while cycling. Ren quickly texted him good morning back, not really expecting a reply since he was biking.

Surprisingly, it only took a few minutes.

> **Akechi** : You’re going to Shujin to meet your teachers today, right? Best of luck~
> 
> **Amamiya** : Thank you
> 
> **Akechi** : I’ve heard the trains are really slow. Have you already left?
> 
> **Amamiya** : Sojiro’s actually driving us both down right now. 
> 
> **Amamiya** : Anyway, guess what? I found an app that lets us play chess through text message. Now you can’t cheat, Goro Akechi ;-)

Ren sent the game board over, waiting for the detective to make the first move.

“Hey, kid. You texting that friend of yours again?” 

Ren looked up at Sojiro and nodded, feeling oddly shy.

“Hmm, he’s polite. You could learn from him.”

Ren nodded again, putting away his phone so he could stare out the window.

He waited for his phone to buzz as Sojiro threatened him with eviction, the principal threatened him with expulsion, and his homeroom teacher ignored him, complaining about him to the principal right in front of him like he didn’t exist. He waited for a buzz on the long awkward car ride home with Sojiro as the newscaster on the radio talked about some kind of freak train accident. He waited for a buzz when he took an evening shift in the Beef Bowl place, hoping to make enough cash for meals and baths for the week. He waited until it was almost midnight.

A tinge of loneliness had crept up in him as the hours had passed even though Ren was used to being alone. Akechi had been a nice distraction from the reality of his situation. From now to the end, his life was a series of closed doors. He’d have to keep walking and walking, hoping one of them would open for him. And his probation could end, but the mark of being a criminal would never leave. 

Akechi had said that Ren’s record didn’t bother him, but he was still a detective and a celebrity no less. It would hardly be good publicity if he was caught hanging around Ren. 

Ugh, he was overthinking this.

It was only reasonable that Akechi needed some space. They had spent a lot of time together over the previous week and the weekend. Akechi was a freaking detective. Who knew how he was juggling that with his school work? The last thing Ren wanted to be was another person with unrealistic expectations for him. 

After agonizing for almost another five minute, Ren grabbed his phone. He took his time trying to pen the perfect message. Finally, he hit send.

> **Amamiya** : Hey Akechi. Hope you had a nice Sunday and that you’re doing okay. I know you must be busy with work :-). Anyway, I wanted to wish you a good night. Sleep well!

Ren got a reply almost immediately.

> **Akechi** : Sorry for not catching your earlier messages. I was a little swamped today with things to do and I haven’t been looking at my phone, but I appreciate you checking in on me. I will commence our chess match tomorrow, so be prepared for devastating defeat. Good night, Amamiya.

Ren felt relief seep into his bones. Akechi was fine. Just busy, as he thought. Maybe now he could finally sleep. He turned off the lights and curled into his sheets. His phone buzzed one more time.

> **Akechi** : I missed arguing with you today.

If a person blushed in the dark where there was nobody to see them blushing, did they even blush at all? 

_No_ , Ren concluded, his cheeks hot. _They didn’t_.

> **Amamiya** : Me too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> I think both boys have it pretty bad at this point haha. Also, I think bathing together is less intimate in Japan than we consider it in the US so hopefully Ren washing Akechi's hair wasn't like too woah? (Well, hopefully a little woah ;-) ) Also, the boys just saved each other's lives so they're feeling pretty close. Next time, we finally start the Kamoshida arc!
> 
> I am totally projecting my love of all the Jacks on to Ren, but they're just too damn cute I can't help it. If Goro hadn't interrupted, pumpkin monster would have probably joined Ren's party haha.
> 
> Sojiro is like 80% sure they're interested in each other at this point. I will never get over how, in Royal, he sent Ren to go with Akechi to the bathhouse. He ships it. 
> 
> Detailed TW: some suicidal thoughts / references to suicidal behaviors (i.e., Ren charging at the Reaper without a Persona)


	5. the jabberwock, with eyes of flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren's first day goes worse than expected.

Monday. His first day at Shujin. Akechi had already wished him good morning and good luck, both of which had been a pleasant surprise. Ren had replied with a picture of the curry Sojiro had given him and asked if he had eaten breakfast. Akechi teased him for being maternal before making his next move in the game of chess they had started. He seemed to have developed a personal grudge against Ren’s knights.

The trains were still delayed after yesterday, and Ren had come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a little late. There was nothing he could do about it at this point. Should he have started for school even earlier?

When he finally _finally_ entered the Aoyama district, he was, of course, caught in a downpour. When had it even started raining? He should have brought an umbrella with him. 

While he waited under the awning of a clothing store, a fellow Shujin student took cover next to him. She removed the hood of her jacket to reveal a head of silvery blonde hair. They briefly made eye contact before a car pulled up, rolling down the window.

“Good morning. You want me to give you a ride to school? You’re going to be late,” the man asked, staring at the girl. He was wearing a bright blue tracksuit. How did he know her? They didn’t seem related. 

“Um, sure. Thank you,” the girl said, entering the vehicle.

The man turned to him. “Do you need a lift too?”

“Naah,” Ren said awkwardly, waving his hand. There was definitely something strange going on. The window rolled up and Ren noticed the girl’s uncertain expression had shifted into distress. Maybe he should have accepted the ride so the girl wouldn’t have been in the vehicle alone with the older man. But surely she wouldn’t have entered the vehicle if she didn’t know him, right? Ren felt uneasy. 

A boy with blonde hair went skidding past. He was wearing the uniform wrong. 

“Dammnit… screw that pervy teacher.”

Oh, so that man was a teacher. It was kind of strange for teachers to be giving rides in their private cars to students, right? The boy turned to him with a bludgeoning glare. Ren wanted to back up but he was already against a wall.

“What do you want?” the boy asked. “You plan on rattin’ me out to Kamoshida?”

Ugh, Ren had no clue what he was even talking about. Ratting him out for what? Was the boy some kind of delinquent or something? What was he even doing wrong? Weren’t they just walking to school like normal students?

The boy started talking about the teacher and Ren _was_ paying attention, it was just that the weird red eye app had reappeared on his phone and was now doing strange things to his screen again. Ren was definitely not ready for another hallucinogenic episode. 

He tapped furiously at the screen as the other kid went on about kings and castles. They were in the same year apparently. The boy figured out he was a transfer student and became a little friendlier, which was a relief.

Finally, Ren just gave up on trying to get rid of it and followed the other boy to school. His head throbbed. It was reminiscent of the pain he had experienced when he had awakened to Arsène, but it was only a fraction of it. He hoped he wouldn’t, like, suddenly drop into that Mementos place again. If it weren’t for Akechi, Ren probably would have died down there where nobody would have found his body and that was really not a pleasant thought. Anxiety snaked up his toes. 

The boy used a lot of shortcuts to get to school and Ren wasn’t sure following him blindly was really his best option, but it would be kind of awkward to just walk away now, so he was stuck.

And of course, since Ren was a naïve idiot (as Akechi had told him multiple times already), they ended up at an honest-to-god castle. It looked and felt nothing like Mementos, and Ren’s clothes hadn’t changed. Surely, that just meant this was a weird nightmare. Why was Tokyo like this?

“We didn’t come the wrong way though,” the boy said, sounding baffled. They paused to look at each other, then to the route they had taken. “Yeah this should be right. What’s goin’ on here?” Ren shrugged because he really had no fucking clue. “Huh. I guess we’ll just have to go in and ask.”

They entered the castle and were promptly surrounded by guards with empty green faces and pointy falchions. School was nowhere to be seen. 

Ren wanted to wake up now. Please.

The guards closed in and he and the other boy were knocked out and captured. 

*

They woke up in a prison together. 

“Let’s try to find a way out.”

They searched around the cell for any means of escape, but sadly came up short. The blonde boy was unexpectedly endearing, even though he was pretty vulgar. After a little while, the same teacher that had offered a ride to the girl from earlier was in front of them, practically nude and threatening to kill them. Ren was really not in the mood. 

The guards threw both of them against opposite walls, holding them at spearpoint, and Kamoshida turned his full attention on the blond haired boy. Was he seriously going to kill him? Ren’s blood ran cold, then hot. Who did this bastard think he was?

“ _Ma moitié, will you not call upon me to correct this injustice with bloodshed?_ ”

Ren’s uniform dissolved into blue flames and Arsène appeared at his side. He was going to obliterate them. 

Fighting felt like a snap of oxygen to his lungs. He could feel the blood singing down his knife and it felt more right than anything else had today. Child’s play.

He and the other boy, Sakamoto, as Kamoshida had called him, rushed out of the cell, locking the teacher in their place. Now they were trapped in some kind of underground dungeon with floating cages, drawbridges, and a river that probably led to the moat outside. His clothes went back to normal again. 

They wandered aimlessly for a while, avoiding guards and trying to find the exit. Eventually, they stumbled upon some sort of cat-like creature named Morgana. Ren was just going with the flow at this point. 

“Hey, not bad, Frizzy Hair! Have you done this before?” Morgana asked after they had finished battling another enemy. 

Ren shrugged. 

Morgana explained things a little differently than Akechi had. Akechi hadn’t mentioned Palaces. Ren wondered if this counted as breaking his promise to the other boy. But, he was technically not _alone_ right? Ryuuji had come in with him and now Morgana was here too. He also wasn’t in Mementos. Besides, it wasn’t like he had entered the Other World on purpose. He and Sakamoto had just kind of wandered in. 

By the time Morgana had finally led them to the exit and they were able to return to the real world, half the school day was done. Kamoshida met them at the gates, but he didn’t seem to know about the palace in his mind or that Ren and Ryuuji had wandered through it.

It was altogether a terrible start to his time at Shujin. Kawakami’s already low expectations were probably nonexistent at this point. Sojiro was furious that Ren was causing him trouble already. On top of that, there were the persistent whispers of his classmates. So loud, Ren was sure he was supposed to hear them. He crumpled up any hope he had of getting along with a new cohort.

_Problem child. Criminal. Drinking, Smoke, Theft, he’s done it all. He’s insane. Stay away. I can’t believe they let a criminal transfer here. He’s committed assault, right?_

_That guy’s life is over. He should just disappear already._

…

*

*

*

The days of the week fell like dominoes. 

Inadvertently, through Ryuuji’s force of will, they returned to Kamoshida’s palace again several times. Ren rationalized that he wasn’t really breaking his promise, so it should be fine. They walked past cages of students being tortured. The blood, the bruises, the pain on their faces spread like an inkstain in Ren’s mind.

Ryuuji awoke to his Persona and his rage was like a lightning rod. The blonde boy carried his heart around on his sleeve like he knew that no one would dare use his emotions against him. No one except Kamoshida maybe. There was something about that unwillingness to hide that Ren admired. He, himself, tended to keep his feelings buried somewhere in his back pocket.

Fear soured the air of Shujin so strongly Ren couldn’t breathe. The whispers didn’t abate; the words a constant pressure against his chest like the tip of a blade. 

Akechi was probably the only relief in his day, other than slaughtering shadows. They texted every day. Ren also bumped into him at the station a few times on the way to school. It was always a pleasant surprise, even though they didn’t have time to talk beyond a quick greeting. He was the only one in Tokyo that understood Ren even a little bit. He hated having to omit everything in his messages about Kamoshida’s mind palace, but he knew Akechi wouldn’t approve and this was too important of a task. If Akechi asked him to stop, Ren didn’t know if he could. Well, the other boy might just arrest him or something, but Akechi wasn’t technically an officer, right? 

If he could, he’d ask Akechi about the ability to bear multiple personas. After all, Akechi had both Loki and Robin Hood, though he’d only used the latter. Such a question would only make the good detective suspicious right now, which they couldn’t afford.

Finally, Ren wanted to show Akechi the cute little pumpkin monster in his soul and prove that he could, in fact, bring one home with him. He consoled himself by trying to imagine Akechi's reaction, but it was out of his reach. Would he be angry that Ren had proved him wrong? Would he provide some biting quip with a smirk on his face to counter Ren? Would he cross his arms and pretend he didn’t care?

Ren fell into the Velvet Room a few nights in a row and the sleeplessness was as irksome as the hurried explanations and warnings from Igor and the twin wardens. He learned to fuse personas for the first time, but kept Arsène with him.

On Thursday, he met Shiho Suzui. He inadvertently memorized the gaunt lines of her face and the gentleness in her eyes when she told him the first kind thing he had heard all week. Later, he would wish he had said more to her. 

Morgana told them about changing hearts and Ren felt increasingly that they were dangling off a precipice, and he didn’t know which way he would fall. On the way home, his peers spoke about Ryuuji and Takamaki like they had any right and the first stirrings of a protective fury rose in his chest. 

And Takamaki was just the person who sat in front of him, until suddenly she wasn’t. He followed her across the station to a fast food restaurant and her pain echoed harshly in him, spilling and spilling across her face in streaks. Ren clutched his knees so hard, they bruised. 

On Friday… 

Shiho Suzui. God.

There was a thorny, jagged place in Ren. Some shard of night or broken strain of ire that pricked and pricked at him until he wept wrath. And Ren had no faculties for grief, so it all just hemorrhaged inside his skin like one big contusion. 

It was in the way Kamoshida spoke and acted when they confronted him in the PE office. He was grotesque: a monster in human form. He had no regret; no remorse. There was nothing inside of him at all. He was just a swarm of flies in the shape of a man, so Ren held Ryuuji’s fist back because he knew it wouldn’t land. 

Kamoshida promised them expulsion within a month. 

And Ren had encountered his first true dead end in life with his arrest. He thought Shujin might have been a way out, but now he knew he had never left the impasse in the first place. He was tied up, handcuffed, gun held to his back, _welcome to the rest of your life_.

The cards stacked up. The volleyball students. Mishima. Ryuuji. Ann. Shiho.

His mind was made up. He would change Kamoshida’s heart, no matter the consequence. Ren’s life was chained to Hell, as Arsène had said. He was going nowhere. He was already a criminal at 16. He might as well earn the title, right?

They went to the Metaverse again on Friday, and this time Ann Takamaki followed them into Kamoshida’s castle. Ren couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling after… 

They ran through a room with Kamoshida's cognitive versions of the girl volleyball players and Ren felt physically ill. It was too horrible. 

Ann awoke to Carmen in a paroxysm of flames. Despite Ryuuji and Morgana’s reluctance, Ren was glad to have her on the team. Her strength was reassuring and welcome. She deserved vengeance for Shiho, and by working together, they could deliver. They explained things at the station about the Metaverse and about Personas. 

It was determined that Morgana would stay with him. He had just dropped off the not-a-cat cat at Leblanc and convinced Sojiro to let him stay when he got a text from Akechi.

> **Akechi** : You mentioned you would like to come with me to the jazz club, right? I’m heading down tonight to do some work. You are welcome to join me. Maybe we could play a game of darts beforehand. 

Would Akechi be able to hear Morgana? The chance was there and not worth taking. 

Morgana was annoyed at being left behind, but consoled himself by claiming he didn’t want to third wheel Ren’s date. He and Akechi weren’t like that, but letting Morgana believe it was the only way Ren was getting out of bringing him. He’d clear it up later.

> **Amamiya** : I’m on my way.

* * *

Goro waited outside Penguin Sniper for his rival to show up. For some reason, he was feeling kind of excited. He and Amamiya had texted all week but they hadn’t met up with each other after Saturday, transitory run-ins at the station excluded. He was obviously anticipating crushing Amamiya in another game. They had ended up being pretty evenly matched in chess, though Goro couldn’t help but feel during their match today that Amamiya wasn’t playing with his full attention. He made a few silly mistakes and Goro hadn’t hesitated to take advantage.

“Akechi!” Amamiya was smiling wide as a fool. He was so obviously overjoyed to see Goro that Goro almost felt a little embarrassed on his behalf. _Really, Amamiya, show some comportment_ , Goro scolded inside his head. Amamiya’s expression was making his heart spin uncomfortably fast. He didn’t think about the last person who had looked so happy to see him. 

Goro snatched Amamiya’s glasses, hoping that the minor annoyance would revert him back to his normal inexpressive self. No such luck.

“How was your week?”

Goro crossed his arms. “You literally asked me that this morning.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear your answer in person.”

“Ugh, you’re kind of annoying,” Goro complained.

“As you’ve already informed me,” Amamiya replied playfully.

Goro decided that answering the question was the only way to get out of this. “My week’s been fine. How about yours?” 

Amamiya’s expression flickered though he did not lose his smile. “Sojiro’s letting me keep a cat,” he said, holding out his phone to show pictures. It was a black tuxedo cat with a yellow bandana and bright blue eyes. It was quite cute and suited Amamiya well.

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask about keeping Snowdrop,” Goro commented, handing the phone back to Amamiya.

He shook his head. “Snowdrop is a free spirit: a street cat through and through. She wouldn’t like being kept inside. This is Morgana.”

“Oh? Are you familiar with _Le Morte d’Arthur_?” Goro asked with interest. 

“I’ve not read it, but I know who Morgan le Fay is. This Morgana is a gentleman though.”

“Did he already have his name?”

Amamiya nodded.

“Hm, fascinating. Shall we head up to the club?”

They ascended the stairs to Penguin Sniper and split the cost of the darts game. They headed to their assigned area and target. Amamiya seemed a little off, but Goro couldn’t quite pin the cause. Maybe some good old fashion competition would liven him up.

“Have you played before?” Amamiya nodded. “Then let’s say you and I make a bet,” Goro suggested.

“What kind of bet?”

“This game has 5 rounds. We’ll play 701. Whoever gains more points in the first two rounds will get to ask the other to do something for them for a week or I guess 7 days since we don’t see each other consecutively. It has to be within reason though. If you asked me to take care of your cat for a week, I probably wouldn’t comply.”

Amamiya bit his lip pensively before he nodded in agreement. They shook on it, sealing the deal. 

Goro went first. He drew back his gloved left hand three times and hit 3 bullseyes one after the other. He couldn’t help the smirk he gave Amamiya as they smacked hands and switched.

Amamiya narrowed his eyes in focus. He looked a little like he was staring an enemy down in Mementos. His first dart hit the bullseye. His second hit triple 17. _It was a fluke_ , Goro prayed. His third dart hit triple 19 and he immediately turned, giving a smug flying kiss to Goro before they high-fived. Ugh, Amamiya was just asking to be punched in the face. 

He had to focus. Triple 17. Triple 19. Triple 20. _Top that_ , he wanted to say as he and Amamiya traded positions. 

Triple 20. Triple 20. Triple 20. Amamiya smiled, rosy and wicked, and Goro decided not to bet on darts with him anymore. In fact, if they ever played again, Goro was going to make Amamiya do all the fucking work. He couldn’t believe he’d lost. He almost wished they had time for billiards, so he could regain his dignity and make Amamiya eat dirt.

“I suppose you win this time,” Goro conceded as he hit the triple 15 to clear the score. “What would you like?”

Amamiya looked thoughtful for a grand total of 5 seconds. “Let me call you by your first name for a week.” 

Goro raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Seriously? That’s what you want? You know you could ask me to buy you something, right? I wouldn’t be able to refuse you.”

“Not interested,” Amamiya replied. “I want to call you Goro.”

“It’s a bad deal.”

Amamiya’s eyes danced. “Well, last week, somebody bought me glasses with the sole condition that I don’t wear them when we hang out. I really don’t think that person has any right to criticize me for what I want.”

“Well, whatever then. It’s your choice,” Goro said with a nonchalant shrug. He was privately very flustered. What the heck was Amamiya playing at? Why would he ask for such a pathetic request?

“Well, Goro, shall we head to Jazz Jin?” The way he spoke Goro’s name was beyond infuriating. He said it with a smile, like it belonged in his mouth, and Goro wished he had been more persuasive when attempting to convince Amamiya to choose a different prize. Well, it was only for a week.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

They were seated at a table near a piano and a brick wall covered in posters. Amamiya took off his blazer and hung it neatly on the chair behind him. His suspenders gave him an air of sophistication. Goro thought of Arsène, who had been wearing a cravat with his crimson livery, and wondered if Amamiya was the type of person to like wearing suits. Goro suspected that he was. They sat next to each other, placing their respective bags on the other seats.

Goro had internal doubts about how well he would be able to focus on his work with Amamiya around to pester him. Those doubts were quickly allayed once they settled on the table, their school books spread out almost overlapping near the center. Amamiya got out a pen and highlighter and turned his attention to his notes with intense focus.

Muhen came around to take their order. 

“Amamiya, what do you want?”

“What, Goro?” The boy asked, not looking up from his reading. Ugh, how was he already so casual with it? Goro lightly kicked his shin which finally got Amamiya’s attention. His face flushed when he looked up to see the owner was waiting on him.

“What drink do you want?” Goro repeated. 

Amamiya turned to Goro with uncertain eyes. “Do you have any recommendations?” 

“He’ll have what I’m having,” Goro told Muhen. Amamiya looked relieved and promptly returned to his reading. His hands made half-distracted gestures under the table as he read, like he was acting out the words. 

They worked in silence for an hour and a half. Goro finished his social studies and English homework quickly, they being his better subjects. He switched to doing detective work on his laptop, writing up a report of the case he had handled last.

Goro usually tried to avoid staring too long at Amamiya, but knowing he was so focused felt sort of like a carte blanche.

He glanced over the table. Even in the dim light of the jazz club, Amamiya did not look well. It was a shockingly pronounced difference from last week. His skin was wan. There were dark, bruise-like circles under his eyes and he seemed utterly exhausted. When he rolled up the sleeve of his right hand to avoid getting ink from his page on it, Goro noticed a hint of discoloration leading further into his upper arm. 

Was it possible that Amamiya was getting bullied by his classmates? The thought filled him with a surprising amount of ire. Ugh, Amamiya was his rival. He had no business being beaten around by the weaklings at his school. It might hinder his ability to focus during their competitions.

“Amamiya, come here,” Goro ordered. The boy looked up in surprise before immediately complying. 

“What’s wrong, Goro?” he asked, concerned.

Goro shoved his sleeve up. His arm was covered in a nasty bruise that stretched almost the full circumference of his bicep. It was dark blue and purple. He pressed down on it and Amamiya hissed before whipping his arm back and pulling his sleeve down. He returned to his seat and looked at Goro with narrow, disapproving eyes. 

“Who gave you that, Amamiya?”

Amamiya gave him a stony look. “Nobody.”

Goro laughed sharply. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that? Just tell me.”

Amamiya’s expression was inscrutable. He had a poker face worth envying. “I saw a cute cat on a fence, so I decided to climb up and follow it. Unfortunately, I fell off the fence and hit my arm. It hurt like hell, but I’m fine.”

It sounded exactly like the kind of thing Amamiya would do, but something just wasn’t ringing right. Goro was used to chasing his instincts down rabbit holes for his job, so he decided to press onwards, changing the line of questioning.

“I wouldn’t say you’re fine. You look exhausted,” he argued. 

Amamiya sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Would you believe me if I told you I’m having a bit of a rough time at Shujin?”

“Really?” Goro wondered again who was bullying him. 

_Find them and rip off their fingers_ , Loki suggested. _No. Just threatening them should be enough_ , Robin Hood countered. _Tell them you’ll arrest them; that always works_. Goro immediately discarded the advice. His Personas were bad at brainstorming. 

“Word of my probation got out to my classmates before I even arrived. With the rumor mill being how it is, I’m now an ex-convict drug dealer who threatened the principal into letting me in at knifepoint.” Amamiya smiled like he was amused. “I’m sure it’ll die down eventually. It’s just irritating.”

Goro made a sympathetic sound. “As a celebrity, I am very familiar with the vapidity of public opinion. Trust me, they’re pathetic little sheep who are unworthy of your attention.”

Amamiya’s eyebrows lifted. “Hey, you said something nice to me for once.”

Goro huffed and decided to ignore the comment. “I didn’t think you’d be the kind of person to care about the opinions of your classmates, Amamiya. Your heart always seems so free.”

Amamiya rested his head on his cupped palm, his eyes dark and unseeing. “You’re wrong, Goro. I… I feel chained all the time; like I'm at a dead end and I can’t go forward or backwards.”

Goro understood scarily well exactly what he meant. It was surprising that Amamiya could feel so hopeless. It didn’t suit him at all. 

“You told me earlier that if I got tired of other people’s expectations, I could come find you. That goes the other way too, Amamiya. I can’t guarantee I’ll always be available to meet in-person, but if you need a break, you can always call me.”

“Thank you, Goro. I’ll keep that in mind.” Amamiya looked at him warmly. “You’re a good friend.”

Goro cleared his throat uncomfortably. He guessed that he’d said something right if Amamiya’s reaction was anything to go by.

They worked in peace for another hour. At that point, they had both gotten enough done, they could justify just talking until they had to catch their train. 

“Did you see the new Feathermen episode?” Goro asked.

“Yes. Who do you agree with? Red or Black?”

“Is that even a question? Black Condor is right all the way. Red Hawk may be a good leader but he is too innocent. Undertaker has threatened the group multiple times and has almost killed every single one of the Rangers one time or another.”

Amamiya shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious who he sided with. 

“Surely you don’t think he can be redeemed, Amamiya?” Goro asked with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know. I base an enemy’s potential for redemption on their capacity to feel remorse. The Undertaker regrets what he’s done. Thus, I think the Rangers can trust him.”

Goro tsked. “A person can feel remorse for their actions yet continue them all the same. As a detective, I see it all the time. Suspects will regret robbing or killing, sometimes even as they commit the crime, but their actions have permanent consequences. Regret is not a good measure for redemption.”

“Then what is?”

“Do they even need to be redeemed?”

“Isn’t that the goal of the criminal justice system?” Amamiya wondered. “Rehabilitation and reformation?”

“Unfortunately, Amamiya, the criminal justice system is more punitive. It’s based on the concept of the public as a whole. Rather than focusing on redeeming certain individuals, it sets examples to other people to prevent future crimes from being committed. It’s more forgiving towards younger people, but to call it reformative would be a stretch.”

Amamiya was at a loss for words. Goro did not relish the turn their argument had taken. Perhaps it was a little too personal. 

“I still believe reform should be the ultimate goal of the system,” Amamiya finally said. “That’s what seems right to me.”

“Ideally, yes. But without psychological reprogramming, many criminals cannot be saved. They need to feel remorse, as you said, but also a sense of responsibility for their actions and a determination to never commit those crimes again. It’s too difficult to guarantee true reformation, even with thorough psychological counseling.”

“Punishment itself aims to psychologically program an aversion to repeating a behavior,” Amamiya argued. “If punishment is used in the criminal justice system, why not other methods to help reform criminals and decrease rates of recidivism? It feels narrow-sighted to say that our main goal should be punishing criminals when those individuals could rejoin society and do good.”

“You assume that punishment is for the criminal’s benefit, but it’s not, Amamiya. In my opinion, punishment is for the victims and their family. It’s the only way civilians can have vengeance enacted without committing crimes themselves. If somebody murdered someone you loved, you wouldn’t want them to be given community service hours and go scot free. You would want them to feel some of the pain you felt, and I can’t fault that.”

“I may sympathize with the victims and their families, but if a criminal can do something good for society and be reformed so they’re no longer a threat, it seems unproductive to keep them contained in a prison.”

“Many criminals are damaged individuals. There’s no guarantee they’ll be able to provide something good enough to society to justify them not receiving their dues for their crimes. I’m not sure how you’d even judge a criminal’s potential to do good in the future or what that good is or if it’s safe for them to rejoin society, but I suppose it is an interesting outlook. Too innocent, but honestly I expect that from you.” 

Amamiya quirked his lips. “Ok, criminal justice aside, do you want to hear my theory for this arc?” he asked.

 _I’m going to regret this_ , Goro thought. 

“Go ahead,” he replied with a sigh.

“I think Undertaker is Black Condor from the future.”

Goro almost snorted out loud. “No, Amamiya. Please, no. We’ve had too much time travel in Neo Phoenix Ranger Feathermen already. I won’t be able to tolerate anymore.”

“But just think about it, Goro! Look at the costume similarities.”

“I refuse to indulge you any longer. Stop this nonsense.”

“But—”

“—No,” Goro cut off.

Amamiya frowned. “We’ll see who’s right in the end.”

Goro rolled his eyes. “I’m sure we will, Amamiya.”

“Anyways, I was thinking, do you want to come over on Tuesday to Leblanc to watch the new episode together? I think it would be fun to discuss it live.”

The offer was tempting. “I’ll think about it. I don’t know what my work obligations look like for next week.”

“Mmkay.” He yawned. Goro inadvertently mimicked him after a few seconds.

“I think we should wrap up our debate for tonight,” Goro suggested. “It’s getting late and we have school tomorrow.”

Amamiya nodded and started gathering all of his books and papers together. Goro followed suit. They stepped outside and the evening was brisk. It was already quite dark, though the lanterns lit everything in a soft glow. The air in Kichijoji always carried the aroma of spices, good food, and incense. 

They talked about more casual things while waiting for the train. They shared the same favorite color, red. Amamiya preferred spicy things over sweet things and winter over summer. Goro also liked winter, but sweet things won over spicy any day. Amamiya was learning how to brew coffee. Goro was trying to learn the acoustic guitar when he had free time. Amamiya eagerly asked Goro to play for him some time. Goro wasn’t good enough for a performance any time soon, so he’d immediately declined. Amamiya had smiled at that and given him a fond look Goro couldn’t parse out.

But that’s what he liked about Amamiya after all. The mystery of him. How he acted like a child and an old soul at the same time. How he was playful, but sharp and serious too. He still texted Goro good morning and good night everyday like a sentimental fool, but he could be so detached and expressionless sometimes that Goro just couldn’t read him at all. 

The train came and Amamiya’s hand unconsciously clasped Goro’s sleeve as their hair whipped around from the speed of the vehicle. It was a protective gesture that Goro found vaguely ridiculous and unexpectedly comforting. 

They boarded and claimed two seats next to each other. Amamiya pulled out a book from his school bag to read. Norse mythology, Goro noted. Had his Persona been a source of inspiration? Loki gave a happy rumble at the thought. The train began moving and Goro pulled out his phone.

Amamiya’s eyes were fluttering closed in closer and closer intervals and Goro wasn’t surprised when his curl-crowned head finally toppled onto Goro’s shoulder. He was fast asleep, and it was no wonder considering how exhausted he was. When the train jerked, Amamiya almost fell forward, so Goro awkwardly wrapped one of his arms around him and prayed he wouldn’t wake up. He pulled Amamiya’s book away and slid it back into his bag.

He was so warm. Goro knew it was only because the air conditioned train cars were so cold, but having Amamiya cling to him was not exactly a bad experience. He read on his phone, ignoring how Amamiya’s wispy curls brushed against his cheek. It would be sort of nice to doze off too, but someone had to be responsible and keep track of when their stop would arrive. He was Amamiya’s senpai; he could look after him in this one instance.

Goro wondered if fate was at play, tying him and Amamiya’s paths together. After all, what were the chances that the person he had hit with his bike would end up being a fellow Persona user? Surely, it meant _something_. Some guidance would be nice, but Goro hadn’t heard the voice of the Being that had given him his Persona since that fateful day. 

When they were about a minute from the station, Goro decided it was time for Amamiya to wake up.

“Get up, Amamiya. We’re almost there.”

His eyelashes fluttered open against Goro’s neck. It was an unnerving sensation. Goro retracted his arm and shoved the boy away as fast as possible. Amamiya didn’t seem to mind, but he also did not seem fully conscious. He yawned and stretched in a sinuous, cat-like motion. 

“Don’t fall asleep on your ride home. I won’t be there to wake you up,” Goro warned. 

Amamiya nodded, almost nodding off again. 

Goro made an aggravated sound. “Listen, Amamiya. You better text me when you get home safe. I will be furious if you forget. Do you understand?”

“Mmkay, Goro.” His voice was deeper and raspier than usual, still sleepy. It was probably what he would sound like first thing in the morning. Goro shoved that thought back into his subconscious. Reaching into his trench coat pocket, Goro slid Amamiya’s glasses back on to his face before he forgot. They stood up as the train entered the station. Goro always liked that five second feeling of falling that happened as the train slowed. 

At the station, they parted ways and Goro wondered if he should have just bit the bullet and taken Amamiya back to Leblanc himself. Ugh, so infuriating. Goro hated worrying about other people. If he was that tired, he should have gone home early.

Finally, about 20 minutes after they had separated, Goro’s phone buzzed.

> **Amamiya** : Good nighhjkl

Goro sighed and threw his phone on to the bedside table to charge overnight. He covered his face with his hands. Typos really weren’t supposed to be so endearing.

* * *

The further they progressed into Kamoshida’s palace, the harder the enemies got, and the better they got at devastating them. Morgana, Ryuuji, Ann, and Ren fit together like components of a gear. They made a good team, desperation and hope bonding them like glue. He loved the rush of power from a successful baton pass and the way they played off each other during an All Out Attack.

What he didn’t love so much was Morgana and Ryuuji’s constant antagonism, but he couldn't really tell the line between friendly squabbling and actual insults. He and Ann always stared at each other like petrified trees when they really got going. Eventually, one of them would have to intercede and stop the argument.

At school, just seeing Ann or Ryuuji’s blond hair around the corner or feeling Morgana balance his paws on Ren’s shoulder gave him happiness. They were quickly becoming the only good thing about Shujin. In the classroom, the teachers kept trying to catch him off guard, even though Ren was listening and taking notes. He was not a visual learner so eye contact was unnecessary, and the view outside the window was nicer anyways. He answered every single one of their questions correctly, but no matter how well he did in academics, nobody’s opinion of him was changing. It was a little disheartening, but Ren no longer cared. He had Ryuuji, Ann, Morgana, and Akechi. They were more than enough for him.

Ryuuji was the polar opposite of Akechi, so much so it was to the point of comedy. Ren often thought about the two of them interacting and it made him want to roll with laughter. Ryuuji was like a human sunflower, a spontaneous explosion of color and noise. Ren had never met someone so genuine or straightforward in his entire life. He could be a brutal coach though, especially when Ren began running with him more frequently. Since he was only doing it to make Ren stronger, Ren couldn’t even complain. On the other hand, Akechi was...something else.

Ann and Shiho also occupied his mind. Ann visited her in the hospital almost every day they weren’t infiltrating. Ren had gone with her one time, bringing flowers from his part-time job. He had felt out of place there, Ann staring intently at Shiho like she could stir at any moment, and him in the corner sprucing up bouquets that might wither before their recipient could wake up to see them. He had never liked hospitals. He knew Ann had appreciated his support, but he wasn’t sure he was the right person to go with her. 

At least he’d gotten his chance to thank Shiho for her kindness to him. He hoped his well wishes could reach her in her sleep.

They ascended higher and higher into the Castle of Lust and Ren knew they couldn’t rest until Kamoshida paid for his crimes. They would get justice for Shiho, Ann, Ryuuji, Mishima, and the countless others Kamoshida had hurt. 

Even if that justice was death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively called, Ren and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad week. 
> 
> Sorry this update was a little late. Starting from next week, I will be updating on Thursdays because I just started working on Wednesdays and it's hard to do last minute edits. I hope this works for everyone. Thank you.
> 
> The darts scene was me getting revenge on Akechi for pointedly only hitting bullseyes so the protag has to finish on the last round every single time. It was the only mini game I was good at haha. I sucked at baseball so bad :-(. Ren has bruises because the team forgot to heal before leaving the Metaverse. Ma (Thank you Scrivenger_Grimgar, Louaseau, and TiredRobyn!) moitié is a French term of endearment meaning "my other half." Please correct me if I'm wrong <3
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos! They mean the world to me.
> 
> Detailed TW: Shiho attempts sucide. The PTs start entering morally questionable territory. Kamoshida is an asshole like in canon.
> 
> [Please look at this gorgeous art made by Keycake (@Keycake) for this chapter!](https://twitter.com/Keycake/status/1340420845848674311?s=20)


	6. half sunk a shattered visage lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys come to small realizations about what they mean to each other. Akechi brings Ren along to an investigation.

In the end, Ann didn’t do it. Ren felt no relief for the fact; it just was.

If she had made a different decision, Ren wouldn’t have had too many regrets. Maybe that made him a bad person, but he had grasped at some point that his morals were somewhat tensile. Her explanation, that Kamoshida rotting in prison was a fate worse than death, made sense. Besides, if Kamoshida wasn’t made to confess he might be memorialized by the school and some of the students as a good coach, and that would be unforgivable. So they had given him a symbolic death, the snag of a knife across his twisted string of fate, a stab to his overinflated sphere of influence.

Ren only wished he could get the image of Kamoshida’s form out of his mind: a screeching pink hellion with a slimy toad-like tongue and bulging eyes. A soul fittingly grotesque for his personality and ethics (or lack thereof). It was a blessing that his hideous castle had collapsed, though it would have been nice if it could have waited until after they had left. Ryuuji had nearly given them a heart attack when his leg had given out.

They split up outside of the school, commending each other for a job well done. It was still light outside when they left, but Ren decided to go home early. The metaverse brought about some unique kind of strain in the body.

They arrived at the backstreets and Morgana jumped out of his bag to hiss at the street cats outside Leblanc. Ren left him to his devices, knowing he would come back eventually, embarrassed at his feline faux pas. He stepped into the café, the rich fragrance of coffee and curry smelling a little more comforting than they had before. His eyes adjusted to the dim bar lights inside.

“Ah, Amamiya, welcome home.” 

Ren’s heart illumed and his mouth smiled shyly without his permission. He tried to tamp down on his excitement since he knew it made Akechi a little uncomfortable. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Ren asked. “It’s Thursday.” 

In the weeks since they had first met, he and Akechi had become undeniably close. It wasn’t rare to find Akechi studying in Café Leblanc on nights he wasn’t working. He was usually swamped with casework on Thursdays though, so Ren honestly wasn’t expecting him. 

He was leaning across the bar, drinking Sojiro’s coffee. Chestnut strands of hair were tucked behind an ear, framing his good-looking face. He was reading a book, though he had looked up from it when Ren had entered.

“I felt bad I couldn’t make it this week. They re-air the new episode on Thursday and I haven’t gotten a chance to see it yet so I thought I might as well come over. Have you already watched it?”

Ren shook his head. 

“Perfect. We have a little time before it starts. Where’s Morgana?”

“Scolding the street cats.”

Akechi hid a chuckle with his hand. Ren knew he found the domestic disputes of the Yongen Jaya cats fascinating, much as he liked to pretend he didn’t care. Morgana didn't especially like Akechi though, mostly because Ren had forbade him from speaking in front of the other boy. 

“Hey kid, wash the dishes for me later,” Sojiro requested. 

Ren nodded his agreement. The older man set a cup of coffee down at the bar for him in return and Ren sat down next to Akechi, their knees knocking together. He took off his glasses before Akechi could take them off for him. 

Were any marks from the Metaverse showing where his uniform didn’t cover his skin? Morgana had healed them all before they returned to the real world this time, right? Ren subtly examined the underside of his forearm, pressing down lightly to check for a bruise he had gotten during the battle. He felt no pain, so all was good. 

What sucked was the injuries they got in the Metaverse were real. The four of them healed faster there and could endure more, but if an injury was deep enough and went long enough without being healed, it sometimes left a silvery scar behind. It would be too hard to explain away such marks to Akechi, who was suspicious by profession and nature.

They caught up over their drinks, even though there wasn’t much to catch up on considering they had been texting since the morning. Sojiro made a frustrated sound at his crossword puzzle, so he and Akechi tried to help the older man complete it. Akechi was at least fifty times better than him at crosswords, but, hey, Ren tried. He at least knew two of the clues and could guess for three of them.

“You could learn from your friend. He’s much smarter than you, huh?” Sojiro said after the detective filled in another blank. Akechi shot him a pompous smile at the comment. They were jerks, the both of them. Ren grabbed his phone, texting in his lap.

> **Amamiya** : Don’t look so smug, detective. :-P It would be embarrassing for you if you couldn’t solve something as simple as a crossword puzzle when you have to solve crimes on a weekly basis.

Akechi reached for his buzzing phone and his eyebrows went up. He smirked even wider at Ren before typing.

> **Akechi** : My, my, someone’s feeling jealous. We are all blessed with our own skill sets, Amamiya. It is no fault of mine if yours does not particularly endear you to your guardian.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Ha ha. Sojiro is plenty endeared by me. 
> 
> **Akechi** : I’m sure.

Ren gave him a pointed frown before playfully ramming his knee into Akechi’s.

Akechi huffed a quiet laugh in return and smashed his knee back into Ren’s like their legs were Newton’s marbles. _Ouch_. Did he not know the meaning of gentle?

“Truce,” Ren said.

“What?” Sojiro asked.

“It’s the answer to 5 across.”

Sojiro looked down, carefully counting the letters and re-checking the clue. “Ah, so it is.” 

Akechi looked like he was internally dying of laughter. Sadist. 

“Hey kid, could I ask you to lock up tonight? I don’t think we’re getting anyone else and I need to get home.”

Ren nodded.

Sojiro shot the two of them a wry, knowing look. “Thanks. I’m heading out. Don’t forget about those dishes.” 

The door closed with a jangle of the bell.

Ren checked his watch. 

“I think I’m just going to knock them out beforehand so I don’t have to do them afterwards.” Ren made his way to the sink, tossing off his blazer and rolling up his sleeves so neither would get wet. He unfastened his watch, sticking it in his pocket. Akechi gave him a cursory glance before turning back to his book. He was reading _After Dark_. Ren scrubbed a coffee mug with warm, soapy water.

“Have things gotten any better at school?” 

The question came from the left field. Akechi wasn’t even looking at him, seemingly still focused on his novel.

Ren ran through many potential answers in his head. He couldn’t make the detective any more suspicious. Leaving the calling card had been an absolute nightmare. Ren had been terrified Akechi would hear word of it and immediately know what they had done. Right now, he seemed none the wiser, and Ren had to keep him that way. 

“Yes and no. The rumors haven’t stopped, but people have other things to gossip about.”

“You still look exhausted.”

Ren shrugged in response. “The life of a student. I work a few part time jobs,” he said, hoping it would suffice as an explanation.

Akechi didn’t ask him another follow up question so it probably did.

He looked so inaccessible when he was focused, a deep furrow between his brows. Ren studied him quietly. Akechi had fey-like features and flawless skin, but Ren loved his eyes the most—the way they turned maroon in some lights or when he did a certain expression. It was no wonder the cameras loved him, even if his fake smile was condescending as hell. His real smile, on the other hand—

Ren looked away quickly when Akechi glanced back up at him.

* * *

Amamiya was being insufferable again. Okay, so his stupid theory had ended up being right and the Undertaker really was Black Condor from the future, but he was not acknowledging the massive plot holes this created.

“I guess I get to call you Goro for another week, huh, detective?” Amamiya said, doing _that_ smile. Goro suppressed the urge to punch him. Amamiya had a very punchable face. He jabbed the pillow he was sitting on instead and hoped Amamiya didn’t notice the movement. They had gone up to his room to discuss the episode and eat dinner, leftover curry.

“Petty bets aside, Amamiya, you must admit that the placement of events in this episode has created a post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy in the overall plot line of the season. Besides, with all the time travel at this point, the original timeline is completely screwed up.”

“Multiple world lines, Goro. They explain _everything_. The future where Undertaker loses everyone will not happen on this world line. He can still exist with them as well because his old worldline doesn’t exist anymore now that he warned them what Black Condor will become if they don’t retrieve the Prism of Mourning. There’s nowhere for him to go back to. And with the whole fallacy thing, wouldn’t Undertaker know best which event led to his turning evil?”

Goro wanted to rip out his hair. “Are you aware, Amamiya, that nothing you’re saying makes actual sense? As if Undertaker would be transparent about his motives! This is all contrived bullshit to add angst to a perfectly good season. I need to send the writers a strongly worded email. They’re losing sight of the show’s original message and trying to make this some sort of psycho Sci Fi thing.” 

Amamiya made a muffled gasp.

Goro narrowed his eyes. “Do you have something to say?”

Amamiya clutched his abdomen, holding back laughter. “N-no.”

“I don’t believe you,” Goro hissed. 

“It’s nothing. I just found your phrasing amusing.”

“My phrasing was apt,” Goro argued.

“Of course, detective,” Amamiya said, his dove-wing eyes twinkling fondly. “I don’t mind this direction though.”

“You wouldn’t.” Goro scoffed. “This is right up your alley, isn’t it?”

Amamiya laughed with his eyes. “I neither confess to, nor deny, anything.”

Goro brandished his phone. “I have textual evidence, you dolt. I can’t understand what you like about this. It’s cheap.”

“It’s romantic,” Amamiya corrected, eyes narrowed. He laid back on his pillow, looking up at Goro from under his eyelashes.

“Oh?” Goro asked, voice dripping with condescension. Amamiya reached up and pinched his cheek. Goro slapped his hand away. 

“It is.”

“How so?” 

Amamiya paused, suddenly still. 

“Do you have any regrets?” 

Goro frowned at the question. “Why do you ask?” he replied, curtly.

“Time travel is a meditation on regrets. Which ghosts we want to bring back to life, which are better off dead. What paths we could have taken, what we chose against, what we lost.”

“Self-reflection is hardly romantic,” Goro criticized.

“But self-acceptance is,” Amamiya countered. “Reflecting on the past, present, and future is coming to terms with your fate. Shedding all your regrets to exist fully in the present.” 

Goro scoffed. “Regrets are impossible to avoid, Amamiya, as charming as that idea sounds. Regrets are how the future influences the past. They can’t be predicted or discarded so easily. It's not realistic.”

“That’s what’s romantic about it.”

Goro raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think romantics and realism coexist?”

“They can’t.” Amamiya got a mischievous glint in his eye. “Haven’t you heard, romance is dead?”

Goro scoffed. “There are dozens of ways I could prove you're mistaken.”

“Oh? Have I offended your sensibilities?” Amamiya teased. “Are you going to romance me now to show me I’m wrong?”

Goro’s face went hot. “I’d rather die.”

Amamiya ran a finger down his face, miming a tear. “You’re so cold.” 

Goro rolled his eyes, willing his blush to go away. “I would never let go of my regrets,” he continued, choosing to ignore Amamiya’s dramatics.

“Why not?”

“They guide my decision making. I consider them an integral part of who I am.”

Amamiya went unreadable again, like a veil had fallen over his face. Goro wanted to rip it off, see Amamiya’s true thoughts spill over into his expression and his eyes uncontrollably.

But it wouldn’t happen—Amamiya had far too much sovereignty over himself. 

“I guess we all live life in a way to minimize regrets,” Amamiya conceded with a shrug. “Or, at least, we pick the regrets we can sleep with.” He spun his phone on his finger like a top, palming it as he sat up. “By the way, I got something for you.” 

Amamiya reached into his school bag, handing Goro a slim paperback detective novel. A little red post-it note was placed near the middle of the book. 

“I was in Shibuya the other day when I saw this in the book store. I know you like them.”

Goro exhaled. He did enjoy detective novels, and this one looked fascinating. But was it normal for friends to casually exchange presents without a particular occasion? Hmm. 

“I’ll return it when I’m done reading it,” Goro compromised. 

“There’s no need. It’s a gift. I did think we could have a bet though, to make things more interesting.”

“Same conditions as always?” Goro asked, interested. Amamiya nodded.

“I marked the exact page I figured it out. Of course I read to the end to make sure I was right. If you can solve the crime before me, you win,” Amamiya explained.

Goro smiled with his teeth. “Deal.”

They pulled out their school books so they could do work for some time. Goro almost wanted to suggest they relocate to the booths downstairs, but he was comfortable for now. He was just going over his science and social studies notes, anyways. After a short while, he switched to reading a book for his literature class, lying down on his stomach to rest the book on the ground.

An hour passed and Goro turned to check on Amamiya. He was drawing tiny cats on the margins of Goro’s history notes. What the hell? Goro rescued his papers out of Amamiya’s grasp and flicked the other boy on the forehead as punishment.

“Ow, Akechi!” Amamiya complained, rolling over, his forehead bright red.

“You defaced my notes,” Goro said unsympathetically. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“I finished all my homework.”

“Then leave me in peace to do mine. Read a book or something.”

“Mmkay,” Amamiya said with a yawn reaching for his school bag to look for a novel. 

After thirty minutes, Goro noticed a light pressure on his lower back. He pivoted on one elbow to see what Amamiya was up to now. The other boy had fallen asleep on Goro again, his curly head resting on Goro’s back like Goro was some kind of pillow. Goro sighed. Amamiya was too cat-like for his own good. At least he wasn’t being bothersome. 

Goro decided to leave him sleeping like that until he finished his work. He sincerely hoped Amamiya’s neck got cramped. Maybe then he would learn to stop sleeping in awkward positions. 

Morgana had returned some time ago and was curled up on Amamiya’s abandoned pillow. The cat wasn’t very fond of Goro, but Goro wasn’t very fond of it either. Finally, he got to a good stopping point in his book. 

He maneuvered, trying to get Amamiya off him without letting the other boy’s head hit the ground. For his own sake, he couldn’t risk Amamiya losing any more brain cells. 

When Goro finally succeeded, their faces were lying way too close together.

Amamiya was unfairly pretty with his solemn, delicate features; his high cheekbones and curly eyelashes. His lips were chapped, but his expression was serene, as always. The sight of it was enough to fill Goro up with a warm, hazy contentment that curled sleepily on his chest, like a cat.

Like stepping into another reality where everything was just a little more palatable—more bearable for another day.

Amamiya’s soft, silent breaths brushed his face.

Oh, fuck. 

Panic twisted up his intestines.

He actually liked Amamiya. Not as a tool or a pawn or a distraction or a fling, but as a person—a rival or a companion of sorts. It shouldn’t be possible. 

He took a deep breath in and out. This changed nothing. It meant nothing. Their earlier conversation came to mind. He had already chosen his path, meaning, he had already chosen against everything else. Amamiya was just another regret he could sleep with at night. It would be okay.

The subject of his confusion still hadn’t stirred and Goro now recognized the splintering sensation in his heart as fondness. He pushed aside the soft, wavy bangs from Amamiya’s face experimentally, resting his hand on the back of Amamiya’s head. His gloved fingers inadvertently got tangled up in the other boy’s curls. With all the hair that usually hid his face pushed back, Amamiya looked a little like his Metaverse self: chic, sophisticated, dangerous. He smelled like coffee. Goro inadvertently shifted closer. 

Their foreheads accidentally touched. A simple gesture, but completely overwhelming. 

Goro’s eyes closed.

There were many things he had to do before he could rest for good, but for now, he wanted this just for himself. If Goro only had a little time left, he wanted to spend as much of it as he could like this. Nobody would ever know. 

It was amazing that he could even feel something as banal as friendship for another person. It imbued a strange kind of melancholy in him. What if he had met him just a few years earlier, before Shido?

Morgana stabbed him in the thigh and Goro jerked away from Amamiya to nurse the wound. 

“Bastard,” he hissed at the stupid creature. Morgana pranced towards the other boy, settling on top of him protectively. He was as smug as his owner.

Goro should head home before the trains stopped running. He decided to wake Amamiya so the other boy could close up the café. He called his name impatiently until his gray eyes finally shifted open. Goro looked away as Amamiya stretched, packing up his school papers in his briefcase. Amamiya shuffled down the stairs after him, his hands folded like he was hugging himself. He looked cold and tired. 

“Hey, Akechi. I was wondering… do you want to get tea with me and one of my school friends next Sunday?”

Goro thought for a moment. “Hmm, I think I’ll be able to come. You’ve made friends fast, Amamiya.”

Amamiya shot him an amused, wry look. “Why do you sound so surprised? I’m a friendly person.”

Goro wondered for a moment if Amamiya casually fell asleep on all his friends, and bought novels for them, and texted them every morning and night like clockwork, and washed their hair. The thought made something inside of him sour like a grapefruit.

“We still spend so much time together. I was sure once you found your own friend group I would be seeing a lot less of you,” Goro explained, donning the smile he used on TV.

Amamiya looked bewildered. “Well, you’re my best friend. Just because I make other friends doesn’t mean I want to see you any less. I just thought it would be nice to introduce you to Ann. I feel like the two of you would get along.”

Goro was Amamiya’s best friend.

“I see,” he said. “Well, until tomorrow.”

Goro escaped to the station as fast as he could without attracting attention. He felt like he’d been slapped in the face. His mind lit up with a strange giddy feeling, spinning round like a carousel. 

He didn’t even think about the other part of Amamiya’s statement until he was seated on the train back to Shibuya. Ann. It was a girl’s name. Why did Amamiya want the two of them to meet? Was he interested in her? 

Goro exhaled sharply, new feelings overcoming the old. He felt weird, almost upset. It was the opposite of how he usually felt after spending time at Leblanc. 

He needed to go home and finish his work. Shido had another job lined up for him on Saturday so it would be best to get trivial stuff out of the way early. He pulled the detective novel Amamiya had given him out of his bag to distract himself from his own petulance.

* * *

Ren couldn’t sleep. Akechi had practically fled from Leblanc looking like he was being haunted by a ghost. Ren hadn’t had a best friend before, but as soon as he and Akechi had really started spending time together, the phrase had just clicked into place in his mind. Ugh, Akechi probably thought he was clingy or desperate or something. He felt like he’d known him for forever, but it had only been a month or so. Why had he even said that? 

“Hey, Joker?” Morgana said from his favorite spot on Ren’s chest. 

“Yeah?”

“Have you had a boyfriend or girlfriend before?”

“Oh, is this about Ann?” Ren teased, playing with one of Morgana’s paws.

“Maybe,” the not-a-cat replied. “So have you?”

Ren paused, a little embarrassed. “No,” he answered after a short pause. “There’s no one I’ve ever really been interested in that way.”

“Oh,” Morgana said, sounding relieved. “So have you kissed anyone then? Or been kissed?”

“What’s with these questions?” Ren asked, tempted to shove Morgana off his chest. 

“Mwehehe wouldn’t you like to know. Just answer me,” Morgana demanded, making his cute little cat eyes go big. Ugh, Ren was such a pushover. Especially for Morgana. 

He answered, blushing awkwardly. “Not anything I would count.” 

Morgana looked shocked. “No way! Seriously? But you’re so suave, Joker! What about that Akechi fellow?”

Ren almost laughed. “Oh, is _that_ what this is about? I’ve told you before, Akechi and I are just good friends. I mean, sometimes I’m still a little unsure if he likes me or if he just kind of tolerates me, but I know he at least enjoys arguing with me, so yeah.”

Morgana grumbled something under his breath. 

“I know you’re still upset about not being able to speak around him, Morgana, but that’s my fault. Not his. Please don’t hold it against him. I would like it if you two got along with each other.”

Ren had given Morgana some BS explanation about momentarily bringing Akechi into the Metaverse when he still didn’t have control over his powers. He explained that Akechi hadn’t realized what was happening and they had returned quickly, but the detective could likely hear Morgana and might get suspicious of them. Morgana had surprisingly bought the story and had also promised not to tell the other Phantom Thieves.

“He’s a detective,” Morgana complained. “That’s the opposite of who a thief should be socializing with.”

Ren shrugged. “I met him before I became a thief.”

“You’re unexpectedly innocent, Joker. Don’t worry, Zorro and I are here.”

Ren rolled his eyes and decided to ignore the not-a-cat. He and Morgana had obviously gotten very different things out of their conversation.

His phone buzzed. Akechi had texted him goodnight back like normal. Good. Ren hadn’t weirded him out too much then. 

Ryuuji and Ann had also texted in the groupchat. They were worried about Kamoshida, but there wasn’t anything they could do now but wait. Ren did his best to reassure them.

“Hey, Joker. Don’t you think you should go to sleep? You have class tomorrow.”

Ren put his phone away and yawned. 

*

*

*

The next day, he and Akechi had just met outside Penguin Sniper when the detective got a call. The lines of his face grew tense. 

“Sorry, Amamiya. The department needs me to interview a witness. They usually don’t make requests so last minute, so I apologize for having to do this,” Goro said, sounding actually apologetic for once.

“It’s okay, duty calls.”

“I don’t know how long it will take,” Akechi said, sounding frustrated. “I think we may just have to cancel. Unless...” Akechi trailed off.

“Unless what?” Ren asked. 

“Do you want to come with me? The witness is waiting at Inokashira park.”

“Is that allowed?” Ren asked.

“It should be fine. I trust your discretion,” Akechi replied.

They rode the train down to the park together. Inokashira was lovely in the spring. Cherry blossoms scattered their petals on the surface of the lake and they rippled in the wind like little pink boats. He wondered what dawn would look like on the water.

The witness met them at a bench near the lake. She had long coffee-colored hair streaked gray, and dark brown eyes. She wore a pink dress and the color reminded Ren of the flowers on the lake. Akechi greeted her and showed her his police badge. He pulled out a little notebook.

“Hello ma’am, how are you? My name is Goro Akechi and this my investigative partner Ren Amamiya. Can we ask you a few questions about the incident that happened last night?”

The woman signed, “Hello. Nice to meet you,” back at them much to Ren’s delight and surprise. Akechi shifted uncomfortably next to him. He didn’t know sign language if his expression said anything.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I actually don’t know Nihon Shuwa. The department didn’t inform me I’d need a translator. Would you mind if I call them real quickly?”

Ren reached for Akechi’s sleeve to get his attention.

“Akechi, I can help,” he told him quietly. The detective looked surprised.

Turning to the woman, he signed a greeting back and asked for her name. She spelled it for him. 

“Her name is Aika Hiromi,” he told Akechi, who looked at him appreciatively. 

“Nice to meet you Hiromi-san,” Akechi said to the lady in pink. The woman nodded in reply, after glancing carefully at Akechi’s lips. She was reading them, Ren realized.

“Can you hear me?” Ren asked, pointing at his ear. The woman shook her head. They needed to reintroduce themselves.

 _“_ My name is Ren Amamiya. This is Detective Goro Akechi. We’re here to ask you some questions about the incident.”

“Please, go ahead,” the woman replied, smiling.

* * *

After interviewing the witness, Amamiya and him had settled in a nearby kissaten for coffee and pastries. 

Goro crossed his legs. He had explained more about the case to Amamiya, who had expressed some curiosity about the incident. “A different vehicle was used this time, but we know it’s related to the case last week. In both incidents, the perpetrator was spotted approaching a woman with flowers. He didn’t make any attempt to convince the women to enter his vehicle. When both Hiromi-san and Ayasato-san refused the flowers, he threw the bouquet on the ground, entered his vehicle, and quickly drove away. The man was described as tall, wearing a black yukata.”

Amamiya’s expression stayed neutral, but Goro knew he was focused. “What flowers were in the bouquets?”

Goro flipped through his notes, though he already knew the answer. “Just asphodels.”

“The flower of oblivion and death, often planted on graves. Hmm, it’s an uncommon choice. They’re not typically used in bouquets,” Amamiya explained.

“Do you study flower meaning?” Goro asked curiously. 

“Oh, I’ve actually started working at a flower shop,” Amamiya said. “I recently read a thorough guide on flowers to help me make better bouquets. Asphodels were covered there as another flower of mourning, though some of the mythology was also mentioned. Chrysanthemums are the more traditional choice, but I guess our Hades is a fan of subtlety.”

Goro smiled at the allusion to Greek myth. This case was becoming more interesting. “Based on that, I would say he’s in mourning for someone. But what’s strange is both of our witnesses look completely different. It might make some sense if he was just approaching women who reminded him of someone he lost, but it doesn’t seem that he is.”

“Could there be something else about these women that link them together?” Amamiya wondered.

“That’s the angle I’ve been taking. They’re both married and have a family, but there are no other intersection points yet. My boss believes there might not be a commonality and the perpetrator is just approaching strangers at random. Besides, while it’s odd, giving flowers to strangers is not technically a crime. Most of the time this is the type of work I’m given as a student, even though I became well known for my work with the mental shutdowns. I’m trusted to look into this alone, but it’s not a priority for the department.”

Amamiya looked pensive. “The asphodels are kind of ominous, though.”

“I agree. It’s hard to discern what intentions he had by giving them. They could possibly be construed as a threat, however it’s still uncertain at the moment.”

“Will the police be keeping an eye on Hiromi-san and the other woman?” Amamiya asked.

“Unfortunately not,” Goro replied. “They’ve determined it’s unnecessary in this instance.” Amamiya made a face. “There’s nothing that can be done about it. Though I will admit I’m feeling a little uneasy myself. I think I may try to trace down where the flowers were purchased next. It could lead us to our culprit.”

“Let me know if I can be of any help,” Amamiya offered.

“I think I will. You’ve made a good assistant for me today. I’m glad I decided to bring you along.”

Amamiya flushed. “It was no trouble. That park was beautiful.”

“Inokashira. Was that your first time going?”

Amamiya nodded. “Yeah. You cycle there right?”

“Yes, on Sunday mornings. I wouldn’t mind your company some time if you were free.” Goro intended to make the offer sound offhand and casual, but it just came out shy and eager and he wanted to take back his words and try again. 

“I don’t have a bike, Akechi. Otherwise I would’ve loved to come.” 

Goro felt an unexpected rush of disappointment. 

“Well, I recommend you get one, Amamiya. It’s the best way to travel around the city. The subways can get hot and crowded, especially when the summer hits.” Goro thought for a second about being in that narrow space where everyone was sweating and crammed close to each other like mules and the memory itself was almost enough to make him shudder in disgust.

“I’ll look around for one,” the other boy promised, reaching for some of Goro’s amaretto tiramisu with his fork. It was absurd that Amamiya casually stealing his dessert made him more happy than annoyed. What exactly had his life come to? 

Amamiya stuck the fork in his mouth and his eyes widened. Goro should have guessed he would like the coffee flavored dessert. It wasn’t overly sweet because of the dark chocolate cocoa powder and espresso.

“You’re rather brave, stealing from a detective, Amamiya,” Goro commented. 

The other boy looked up at him sheepishly through the veil of his dark eyelashes. Stupidly stupidly pretty. Goro’s grip on his coffee mug tightened. 

“Sorry, Akechi. I wanted to know what it would taste like. You can have some of mine in return.” Amamiya slid his lemon bar over and Goro grabbed some with his spoon. The woman at the counter had given Amamiya a huge slice. He popped a bite into his mouth and winced.

“It’s very sour,” he commented, forcing himself to swallow. Amamiya glanced at him, lips twitching.

“Oh, sorry, detective. I didn’t know you couldn’t handle sour things.”

“I can handle them just fine,” Goro said, disagreeing.

“Then shall we make a bet?” Amamiya asked. “I’ll cut this lemon bar perfectly in half. Whoever finishes their half first wins. We’ll play for our usual prize.”

“I’m not stupid, Amamiya. I know you just want more of my tiramisu.”

Amamiya blinked innocently with his smoke eyes. “But I didn’t even say anything about your tiramisu, Goro. I just thought it would be fun, but if it’s too much for you, we don’t have to do it.”

Goro cleared his throat, knowing he was being baited. “I never said it was too much for me.”

“So you’ll do it then?”

“Fine, whatever,” Goro said, giving in. He already knew he was going to regret this.

Within seconds, Amamiya had the two halves divided and placed on opposite ends of his plate. “Ready, go!”

Goro used his fork to pick up his whole half and shoved it all into his mouth in one go. He was not going to lose. Amamiya stared at him in utter shock. Goro banged the table hard with his fist in response to the intense sourness flooding his mouth. The flavor was so acute it physically hurt. Within mere seconds, he had chewed enough to swallow it all down. He drank a sip of his coffee to wash the lemon flavor out of his mouth, and contemplated if he had permanently damaged his taste buds.

“I guess I win,” Goro said, smirking.

“I didn’t expect you to do that,” Amamiya confessed.

“Never underestimate what I would do for victory,” Goro said with a perfect smile. “For my prize, you have to make me coffee seven times.”

“But I’m still learning. Sojiro’s coffee is way better,” Amamiya argued.

“I don’t care,” Goro replied.

Amamiya sighed like he thought Goro was being ridiculous. “It shall be done, then. Come to Leblanc when you want to collect, detective.”

“Oh, I will,” Goro said. 

Amamiya made longing eyes at his tiramisu, but Goro was not going to give in. He decided to change the topic.

“Amamiya, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“How did you learn Japanese Sign Language? You spoke it very fluently with Hiromi-san.”

Amamiya's eyes grew unfocused. He crossed his legs and folded his arm to cup the elbow of the other, lifting his hand to tangle his fingers in his curls. When Amamiya began pulling, Goro recognized it as the same self-soothing gesture he had done in the bathhouse when talking about his arrest. 

“I told you my parents work in business, right? They do a lot internationally, so they’ve always had to travel, sometimes for months at a time. Since they couldn’t take care of me, my uncle looked after me for most of my childhood. He couldn’t speak, so we communicated through Nihon Shuwa.” Amamiya bit his lip thoughtfully. “I learned Japanese and JSL concurrently, so when I was a kid, I used a hybrid of the two to talk to everyone. It took me a while to separate them.”

“How did the kids in school react?” Goro asked curiously. 

Amamiya looked at him ruefully. “As well as you’d expect. They thought I was just making up random hand movements for attention. I was painfully shy as a kid, so it was easier not to talk at all when I’d be picked on so relentlessly for it every time.”

Goro exhaled. “Kids can be so cruel, especially when one of their peers is different from them.”

“Have you experienced that first hand?”

“Yes. I grew up without a father. That no-good bastard left my mother to raise me alone, and we struggled to make ends meet. For some reason, that put a target on my back for my fellow classmates.” Amamiya brushed his hand over Goro’s comfortingly before retracting it like he had been burned. Goro’s hand tingled from the contact. 

“Do you ever wonder about what it would have been like if we had gone to the same school when were kids?” Amamiya asked.

Goro laughed. “I actually have thought about that, yes.”

“What did you conclude?”

“We would have been friends,” Goro said hesitantly.

“Is that all?” Amamiya asked. “Well, I think, if we met in our childhood, I would have dragged you back home with me all the time. My uncle owned a bookstore and we lived above it, so the two of us could have read together for hours. I would’ve probably made you act out all my favorite scenes with me. I was a little… overdramatic when I was a kid.”

Goro looked at him wryly. “You haven’t quite lost that trait yet, Amamiya.” Goro paused. “I would’ve taken you home too, I think. My mother…she would’ve liked you a lot. We could’ve watched Phoenix Ranger Feathermen R together for the first time. I had action figures, so I would’ve made you play with me.”

“Which Featherman would you have given me?”

“Black Condor. I was obsessed with Red Hawk when I was a kid, so I would’ve given you his rival.”

“I have a feeling you would have made me the villain in every game we played,” Amamiya teased.

“On what basis do you make that conclusion?” Goro asked, scoffing.

“Intuition. Your favorite characters are always the heroes. I definitely wouldn’t have minded being the villain though. I might have even insisted on it—I always liked them best, especially Black Condor.”

Goro rolled his eyes. “I should have known.”

Amamiya chuckled. “We would’ve had so many sleepovers.” 

Goro thought of all the nights he had spent alone in the bathhouse when his mother was working. He thought about lying next to a tiny boy with smoke for eyes above a dusty bookshop in a small country town instead, laughing much too late into the night, falling asleep mid-whisper, mid-sentence. 

It hurt.

“I wonder if there’s another reality where that could’ve happened. It would have changed so many things.”

Amamiya’s eyes softened to clouds. “I see you’re beginning to understand the appeal of parallel worlds,” he crooned, before shifting to a more sincere register. “But that aside, I think this reality’s still pretty good.” He glanced at Goro with so much _something_ in his eyes, Goro immediately had to turn away.

 _Don’t look at me like that_ , he wanted to shout at the other boy. _You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done. You don’t know anything._ It looped in his head like a curse. His throat clenched up painfully.

He pushed his tiramisu over to Amamiya silently. 

_Don’t say anything else_ , he begged with his eyes. _Don’t give me any more regrets._

And maybe Amamiya was telepathic or maybe he just knew Goro now, because he didn’t. The tiramisu ended up in the middle. They shared the last of it. 

*

*

*

_Ren was dressed in his Metaverse costume. They were on a platform in Mementos, the wavering world pulsing like a web of veins around them. Goro was speaking but he didn’t know what he was saying. He turned to Ren for a response and his breath caught in his chest._

_Ren’s eyes were empty. Blood was pouring down a circular bullet wound in his head._

_A weight pressed into his palm. Goro looked down to his hand. He was holding a gun. He dropped it and it clattered on the broken railway tracks._

_Ren’s gray eyes turned a burning yellow. He turned, his body animated almost puppet-like. He reached forward and grabbed Goro’s face hard, their eyes staring straight into each other. His voice was deep and echoed like a hundred voices were speaking at once. It reminded Goro of the voice of god._

_“This is what you do. I don’t know why you’re even surprised.”_

_Goro reached for Ren desperately. “I’m sorry. Please—“_

_Ren pushed him away hard. He fell onto the tracks, staring up at the other boy from his back._

_“I don’t want to see you again,” Ren said dismissively, blood covering his face like a mask._

_He heard the shrieking scream of metal on metal, then the train was thundering over his body and Goro shot_ awake. 

He gasped for air. What the hell? He rolled over pulling aside the curtain. He was in his apartment. It was nearing 4 AM. He swung out of bed to wash his sweaty face. They were both alive. It was just a stupid dream.

After his heartbeat slowed, he reached for the detective novel Amamiya had given him and began reading, lines of words burying the images underneath. 

* * *

Ren hated running in the scorching heat, but he liked working out with Ryuuji. It was a conflict of interest that Ryuuji always won. 

Ren dumped his whole water bottle on his head, but his skin still felt like it was melting off his skeleton. 

“Nice job, Renren!” Ryuuji complimented, smacking him on his back and smiling much too cheerfully after the hour of suffering they had just endured. 

Ren wanted to lie down and never get up again. 

“Heat stroke,” he gasped out.

“You’re fine,” Ryuuji replied. “It takes a bit of getting used to.”

Even undergoing one of Takemi’s medical trials felt better than this. Ren was gonna just go help her next time, sorry, Ryu. The blonde haired boy swung his arm around Ren’s shoulders. Ren knew Ryuuji was just wiping off the sweat from his arm on Ren’s shirt. He pushed him away. 

They began jogging back home.

Ugh, he definitely had to shower before he went to help Yoshida tonight. 

Back home, Ren hadn’t cared much for politics. He knew issues and figures in passing but hadn’t gotten involved in debates or in advocacy. After his encounter with the politician that night, his repulsion had only grown. He had begun to believe all politicians were corrupt, just working for their own ends. 

Yoshida was proving him wrong, but he was one of the only good ones in a sea of shady faces. There was much to be learned by the way he conducted himself. Ren wished he had his poise and grace, especially when confronted by opposers. Even though Ren could project calm well, he got angry fast. Especially at the casual, everyday injustice that clung like cobwebs to every corner of this messed up world.

Speaking of which, their deadline for Kamoshida was coming up. Ren contemplated for a moment what would happen if he was expelled. Sojiro would definitely kick him out. If he worked at the flower shop, convenience store, and beef bowl shop simultaneously, would it be enough to cover his living expenses? 

Probably not. He'd have juvie to worry about first anyway.

Would Morgana still want to stay with him afterwards? 

Maybe. 

He and Akechi wouldn’t be able to study together anymore. Even the thought of telling the other boy that he had been forced to drop out of school gave Ren the chills. He really hoped this change of heart thing worked. 

A few hours later, he had just dropped down in bed, homework done for the week when his phone buzzed.

> **Akechi** : Page 67. Ten pages before you figured it out.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Congratulations, Sherlock Holmes. What do you want?
> 
> **Akechi** : Call me Senpai for a week, Watson ;-).

_Watson._ Ren's heart thrummed in his chest. 

> **Amamiya** : Good night, Senpai. Sleep well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Akechi figures out Ren is his friend and they bond over regrets.
> 
> Replace punch with kiss and you have an accurate impression of Goro's internal monologue. My weakness is Ren calling Akechi Sherlock and Akechi calling Ren Watson. Goodbye.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the chapter <3
> 
> Detailed TW: References to Kamoshida the asshole and his crimes. Goro has more thoughts about dying. Goro has a nightmare where Ren dies. There is some blood, references to violence, etc. There is a forehead boop between the boys this chapter that happens when Ren is asleep, AKA the only time Akechi shows affection sin inhibitions.


	7. cloudless climes and starry skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamoshida's confession. Akechi meets Ann.

Light splashed into Leblanc from the glass door, refracting off the multicolored lamps that hung from the ceiling to dance across a monochromatic board. They had the day off from school, so Amamiya and him were having their usual chess match at the bar. They were playing more casually today, not having bet on the outcome. Morgana was napping somewhere in the attic loft.

“Hey kid, isn’t that you’re school?” Sojiro asked from the other side of the counter, gesturing at the TV with the mug he was polishing.

Goro turned to look with interest. A burly male teacher was sobbing on top of a gymnasium stage. “And now to our next topic… Fall from Grace: the story of a dishonored Olympic medalist. Just recently, a high school coach confessed at an assembly that he had been repeatedly abusing his students. Given his prior Olympic achievements, this has caused quite a stir. What caused this habitual offender to suddenly confess these heinous crimes to his entire school? The police are hoping that the upcoming interrogations will bring light to this question.”

Fascinating. There was such a monster in Amamiya’s proximity. Goro thought darkly for a moment about the bruises on his skin. Given how often they spoke with one another, Goro would’ve thought Amamiya would have at least mentioned something to him, even if only in passing. Displeasure clawed up his spine.

Goro turned to face him. Amamiya wasn’t looking at the TV, fully focused on the chess board like it held the answers to life.

“Did he do anything to you?”

The veil fell over Amamiya’s face again.

“He didn’t lay a hand on me.” 

He was evading the question. Would pressing the point silence him? Or did Goro need to apply some pressure to get him to open up?

“Hey, things may be getting turbulent at your school, but you need to keep your head down,” Sojiro ordered from the other side of the bar, helpful as always. Amamiya nodded, finally making his next move.

After sliding his rook into play, Goro tapped his fingers on the counter, smiling amiably to shroud his blooming irritation.

“I’m surprised you didn’t tell me anything about him.” 

Amamiya opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. 

_Hmph. No answer_.

Goro leaned across the chessboard, so close he could see the darker flecks in Amamiya’s pale eyes. 

“I know I’m still a student detective, but I could have investigated him at the very least. I wish you would have confided in me.”

Amamiya turned his face away, his shaggy bangs hiding his expression from Goro’s attentive focus. Goro’s eyes darkened. Amamiya wasn’t getting away so easily. 

“Do you find it hard to rely on me, after the incident that led to you being here? It’s only reasonable that you have some mistrust towards the justice system after everything that happened to you.”

For a moment there was silence. Nothing but the whirr of electricity, the murmur of the TV, and the burble of percolating coffee.

“No,” Amamiya said, turning to gaze at Goro softly, _piercingly_. “You’re different from all the rest of them. You care about justice and truth more than power.” Amamiya paused, spinning his coffee mug so the handle pointed directly opposite of him. “I’m just personally not used to relying on others.”

Amamiya’s opinion of him was unexpectedly flattering. Goro adjusted the knot of his tie, flustered.

“I would like it if you could try relying on me,” he said, looking up smoothly, trying to resummon his Detective Prince charm. “I’ll do my best to prove I’m worthy of it.”

Amamiya didn’t respond, gazing mutely at the chessboard, so Goro turned back to the TV broadcast. It was still ongoing.

“Why do you think he confessed?” he asked curiously.

“I think the guilt finally caught up to him.” Amamiya twisted one of his curls around his index finger. “A few weeks ago, a student he’d abused attempted to commit suicide. Shujin hushed it up of course, but now she’s in a coma. That probably had an affect on him.” 

_Suicide_. A sickening image flashed in Goro’s mind before he slammed the cellar door shut. He looked up and Amamiya’s quicksilver eyes had tarnished black. Goro had never seen so much darkness in his gaze before. He hadn’t thought Amamiya was capable of it. 

“That’s truly horrendous. I’m glad he’s been apprehended,” Goro said, sincerely.

“Agreed.”

“Did you know the girl?”

“Not personally. She’s a friend of a friend. I had one interaction with her the day before, and she was…kind to me.” Amamiya sighed. “I wish I had said something more to her.”

“Don’t blame yourself; it’s that _sickening_ teacher’s fault. He deserves punishment for what he’s done,” Goro snarled. “I hope the girl recovers quickly.”

Amamiya nodded.

Some students from the school were interviewed about Kamoshida, the camera carefully hiding their faces from airing. 

“Nobody speaks up about these things until it’s safe,” Goro observed. “Then, everyone has a story to share.”

“There was nowhere for them to turn to,” Amamiya explained. “While the mentality of it bothers me, with every grievance aired I feel like Kamoshida’s being chained further to Hell.”

Goro glanced up in surprise at the somber phrasing. The last time they had talked about the justice system, Amamiya had been insistent on reforming criminals. Goro wondered what had changed, or if the two beliefs, reform and punishment, existed concurrently in Amamiya’s mind. 

“Checkmate.”

Goro turned to look at the board and grimaced. He had gotten distracted by the news. Amamiya had cornered him without him even noticing it.

“Hey kid, your show’s soon right? Finish helping me back here and I’ll give you both curry,” Sojiro offered. Amamiya nodded before moving behind the counter. 

“Do you want a refill?” Sojiro asked him.

“Yes. But I would prefer Amamiya to make it for me,” Goro said.

“This kid’s still an apprentice,” Sojiro said. 

“It’s part of a bet, isn’t that right, Amamiya?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“Oh, did you forget about our other wager?” Goro asked. “You haven’t referred to me once today, kouhai.” 

Amamiya glared daggers at him and Goro smirked back cheerfully, waiting.

“One cup of coffee coming right up, S-senpai,” Amamiya said, his face flushed. He stuttered out the word like he wasn’t used to saying it, and Goro’s heart did a weird flip-flop in response. 

Amamiya reached for his green apron and tied the cord in a neat double knot behind his back. He had worn it before, but Goro was still taken aback by how domestic he looked every single fucking time. It was unfairly adorable. Goro’s face felt hot. 

“I’d like a pourover please,” he requested.

“You’re getting a latte, Senpai,” Amamiya informed him.

“A latte?”

“I want to make a cat.”

Amamiya poured the steamed milk into the cup until it was near the top. He came around to sit next to Goro with a spoon, a small wooden toothpick, the milk pitcher, and the mug. He began spooning the steamed milk into a lopsided circle in the middle of the latte. 

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to just pour directly from the pitcher?” Goro asked. “I’ve never seen anyone do latte art with a spoon.”

“Be quiet, Senpai. I’m focusing right now,” Amamiya ordered. With the toothpick he drew two uneven triangle cat ears from the top of the disk of milk. Dipping the toothpick in the coffee, Amamiya started sketching its facial features. He gave the cat a nose shaped like a heart and two ‘u’s for closed eyes. After he had drawn the last curve of its mouth, he slid the mug to Goro.

“Aren’t cats supposed to have whiskers, Amamiya?” 

Amamiya grumpily yanked the mug back. The coffee sloshed up the sides of the cup, turning the little kitten into something more like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. He drew three whiskers on each side before passing the mug back to Goro.

Goro stared down at his cat fondly. “I’m going to take a picture for my food blog,” he said, grabbing his phone. “I won’t say where I am though; I kind of like this place being my haven. I don’t know what I’d do if one of my fans showed up here.” Goro snapped the photo. “I feel kind of bad, ruining your hard work, Amamiya. The cat’s pathetic, but in a cute sort of way.”

“You’re bullying me, Senpai,” Amamiya said, deadpan. 

“I-I’m just being honest,” Goro replied. Why was _he_ stuttering now? 

He stared at his drink contemplatively, wondering if there was a way he could drink without ruining the design on top. Maybe Amamiya had a straw?

Before he could blink, Amamiya lifted the cup and blew across the steam, completely blurring the pattern away. Then, he took a sip.

“I got bored waiting for you to try it,” he said, handing Goro back the mug. 

Goro stared at the place the cat used to be in silent loss. 

“I’ll make it for you again next time, okay?” Amamiya sighed. “I didn’t think you’d actually like it.”

Goro drank his latte, hyper-conscious of where Amamiya had placed his lips. _Indirect kiss_ , the 12 year old in him whispered. 

“I’m heading out,” Sojiro said, placing two platters of curry down on the bar stand. “Lock up, Ren.”

Amamiya nodded gratefully. Sojiro looked between the two of them again like he was trying to figure something out. Then he was gone, tilting his trilby down as he left. 

Amamiya moved to the other side of the bar to clean up the café. Goro reset their chessboard, moving all the pieces back to their place. He set the board down on the bar next to the books and grabbed the TV remote to change the channel.

As soon as he finished with the dishes, Amamiya nimbly tugged at the strings of his apron until the knot came loose. He threw it on the hook and came to sit by Goro. Their knees brushed and the intro began playing.

Amamiya nudged Goro’s shoulder with his own. “Perfect timing,” he said, pleased. 

“Shh, it’s starting,” Goro replied, shouldering him in return. Amamiya looked even more pleased at that, though he rubbed his shoulder like it was in pain.

Tuesdays were slowly becoming Goro’s favorite day of the week.

*

*

*

_Ren was sleeping on his shoulder again. They were riding the train back from… Goro looked out the window in confusion. They were in Mementos. Why were they here? Neither he or Ren had changed into their other outfits._

_“Hey, Amamiya. Get up.”_

_They could figure it out together._

_…_

_He didn’t reply._

_Black liquid dripped onto Goro’s trench coat sleeve, staining the fabric._

_Goro turned to look at Ren in horror. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head and he was crying blood._

_“Ren?” Goro’s voice sounded frantic and broken, like it had when he was 11 and had found his mother—_

_Goro nudged Ren with his shoulder and the boy toppled out of the seat on to the floor dead dead dead_

_Goro screamed_ awake. 

His skin felt damp. He was sweating and crying. A lot. He pulled off his wet shirt and staggered to the shower. When the hot water was pounding on his skin, he could finally think. Amamiya couldn’t have a mental shutdown because he already had a Persona. It was nonsensical. 

Still. Goro had the strange urge to dial Amamiya and confirm the truth for himself. 

How foolishly irrational; he could hardly wake Amamiya up at whatever God-forsaken time it was.

He was too uneasy to go back to sleep, so he might as well get some school work done. He was attending his high school on a scholarship, so it was important to keep the quality of his work high. Shido had given him a little break after the train derailment, but it wouldn’t last for much longer. He had to make use of the extra time that had fallen into his lap.

His father had other cleaners which he employed regularly. Goro, however, was the most useful for intimidating and impressing the kind of people Shido wanted on his side. He was like a glorified show pony that stomped someone to death every so often. 

It was unlikely Goro would ever be asked to assassinate Ren of all people. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder, if Shido asked him, was he even capable of doing it at this point?

Goro’s head went blank, silence drowning everything out.

Fuck. What the hell was Ren doing to him? 

He breathed in and out, fury dancing up and down his veins. This was a shitty line of reasoning in the first place. There was no use stressing the what ifs. Ren was hardly the kind of person that would be on Shido’s radar; he was safe—safe for Goro, safe from Shido. He wasn’t someone Goro would get to keep, but he had Ren for now and that was all that mattered.

In the end, it would all be worth it. He would make it so. Every loss, every regret, and every death would all be redeemed, paid back in full. Goro was going to break Shido into a million pieces and grind every fragment into the dust. 

The rapture that would overcome him in that moment… 

Goro could almost taste it.

He was so close now.

* * *

Ann was going to be a few minutes late. Akechi was wearing a ridiculous blue argyle number that made him look like an old man, even though blue was usually a good color on him. 

“I told you Ann’s super fashionable, Senpai. Why are you wearing a winter sweater in the spring?” Ren teased. In actuality, Ann probably wouldn’t care too much. 

Akechi looked offended. “My fashion taste exceeds yours, Amamiya. I am a _celebrity_. A fact you seem to forget far too often. Argyle is a traditional choice and the heat is no problem for me.”

“Someone’s going to claim you as their grandfather and take you home with them,” Ren replied. He made a show of looking around. “They’ll be here any minute now, Senpai. Maybe you can wave your handkerchief at them to ward them off.”

Akechi looked like he wanted to strangle Ren. He had just taken an ominous step in Ren’s direction when two high school aged girls approached them. Perfect timing. Ren lifted an eyebrow at Akechi, who gave him a death glare.

“Um, are you Detective Prince Goro Akechi?” One of the girls asked in a high, reedy voice.

Akechi instantly smiled his most charming smile; it was so fake Ren almost burst out laughing. Akechi shot him a quick glare, warning him to control himself, before he turned back to the strangers, his smile not faltering in the slightest. _Truly the duality of man_ , Ren thought fondly.

“Why yes, I am. How can I help you, ladies?”

“See! I told you!” the other girl said, elbowing her friend.

“I know, Aya. Could we please have a picture with you?” the first girl asked.

Akechi winked. “Of course. I always love meeting my fans.”

He had literally just complained about that to Ren over the phone yesterday for an entire hour. 

“Here, I can take the picture,” Ren offered. The girl handed him her device. The three of them posed somewhat awkwardly, Akechi in the middle looking mysterious and handsome in spite of his sweater, the girls on either side doing some kind of sorority squat and peace sign combo. 

“Say argyle,” Ren told the three of them. 

“Argyle!” God bless their hearts, the two high school girls actually listened to him. Akechi’s aura grew murderous, so Ren quickly took the photo. 

Akechi told them a dorky detective joke in parting and Ren rolled his eyes.

As soon as the girls had gone on their merry way, Akechi’s face dropped. He stalked forward, maintaining eye contact, and Ren’s heartbeat sped up dangerously fast. Akechi leaned in to speak in his ear. He was too close. 

Ren’s breath caught in his throat when Akechi exhaled.

“Listen here, Amami-”

“Umm, are you guys in the middle of something?”

Ann. Loud and cheerful as always. Thank god. Ren quickly escaped to her side before the detective arrested his cardiac. Haha.

“Hey, Ren. I’m guessing this is your friend, huh?” Ann greeted. “Oh, but where are your glasses?”

Akechi had already confisticated them. Ren approached to steal them back from his pocket.

“Please, Senpai. Think of your reputation. What if your fans had seen you threatening someone? What would they think of you?” Ren teased in a whisper as he slid the spectacles on to his face. 

Akechi smiled like a sun lamp. “You’re right, of course, Amamiya. Thank you for reminding me of my decorum.” Ren frowned. That response wasn’t fun at all. What had happened? Had Ren pushed too far?

Akechi turned to Ann. “I apologize for such an embarrassing display at our first meeting. Do you think we can start over with introductions?”

Ann looked taken aback by his overt charm. “Yeah, totally! My name is Ann Takamaki. You can just call me Ann.”

“Lovely to meet you. You can call me Akechi. I work as a detective.”

“That’s so cool!” Ann gushed. “I think I’ve seen you on TV before.”

Akechi preened, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Ren found the gesture mostly endearing at this point rather than condescending. “Yes. I do some work on-air. Mostly just talk shows though. Being in the public spotlight can be exhausting, so I try to limit my appearances.”

“I know what you mean. I do some work as a model, and it’s more than enough attention for me,” Ann said empathetically. 

Akechi’s mouth curved wider. “That’s wonderful, Ann-san. I’ll look for you next time I buy a magazine. That is, if you’ve been on any covers lately?” 

There was something weird going on. Ren couldn’t figure it out.

Ann waved her hand dismissively. 

“I’m still just a beginner. You don’t have to bother. So, how did you meet Ren?” she asked. “I’ve been curious about it for a while.”

“Amamiya never told you?” Akechi said wonderingly. “Well, it’s not a particularly flattering incident on my part, so please excuse me if I want to keep it between ourselves.”

“C’mon! Now you’ve just made me more curious.” 

“Don’t worry, it’s not as exciting as you think, _Ann_. Anyway, I think we should head over to the tea place. Don’t you agree, Amamiya?”

Both Ann and Akechi turned to look at Ren. Their undivided attention was a little overwhelming. Ren nodded and they resumed glaring at each other. Or, more like Akechi was doing his bright, plastic, “I’m annoyed!” smile and Ann was looking lukewarm. 

This was a disaster. Ren had honestly believed the two of them would be instant friends. 

They headed to the tea and crêpe place silently, which was strange because both Akechi and Ann were extremely talkative people. They ordered up front and chose a booth near the window. Akechi immediately slid in after Ren, so Ann settled on the other side of the table. 

They sat on their phones in awkward silence for a few minutes until their numbers were called. 

“So, Amamiya. How do you know Ann?” Akechi asked, once they had settled back in their booth. “You’ve told me you guys go to the same school.”

“Yes. We’re actually in the same homeroom. She sits in front of me,” Ren answered.

Akechi’s eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly. He turned to Ann with curved lips. “Ah, I see. How lucky you are, to get to talk with Amamiya everyday. It must have been easy to form a relationship with him.”

Ann looked confused. “Yeah, I guess. There’s not a lot of time for talking though. I mean we’re still in class, you know?” Ann leaned forward and tried to take a bite of her crêpe. A strand of hair fell in her way, even after she tried to push it back behind an ear. Ren reached into his pocket wondering if it was still there. Yes! It was. He tossed Ann her hair band. 

“You left this with me after your last shoot,” he said. Ann smiled gratefully.

“You’re the best, Ren!” She quickly tied a loose ponytail to resume eating. 

“You’ve gone along for some of her shoots, Amamiya?” Akechi asked.

Ann answered. “Yes. Sometimes when we’re hanging out, my agency will contact me suddenly for a job. I guess I just kind of drag Ren along. You don’t mind, right, Ren?”

Akechi and Ann both turned their attention to him again. 

Ren shook his head, and the awkward silence resumed. 

“Amamiya, you owe me a bite of your crêpe.” 

“For what?” Ren asked.

“For destroying my latte cat,” Akechi replied. Ren thought it over for a moment.

“Fair,” he replied, passing his crêpe over. 

Akechi ate his last strawberry. Asshole. Ren frowned at him once he had retrieved his crêpe. 

“You went for my strawberry on purpose,” Ren complained. “You know I like them.”

“Oh, really? I’m sorry,” Akechi said, radiating insincerity.

“I’m taking one of yours as compensation,” Ren said, reaching for Akechi’s crêpe. He didn’t say anything when Ren took a bite. _Mmm_. It was way better than his crêpe. “Which one did you get?”

“Strawberries and Créme,” Akechi answered. “You got the Tropical Sunrise right?”

Ren nodded, taking another bite of Akechi’s crêpe.

“What about you, Ann?” he asked. 

“I got the Chunky Monkey. Would you like to try some?” Ann offered.

“Oh, thanks. But I’m okay,” Ren said, passing Akechi back his crêpe. “What do you guys want to do after we eat?”

“Shopping,” Ann replied. “More specifically, I’m going to take you shopping. You only brought like 6 outfits to Tokyo, and 4 of those are school uniforms. I know some great stores in Kichijoji. Of course, you’re more than welcome to come along with us, Akechi.”

“I’ll be there,” he replied. “If I find something new to wear out, hopefully Amamiya will stop bullying me about my sweater.”

“I wasn’t bullying,” Ren protested. “I was just looking out for you, _Senpai_.”

Akechi scoffed, pinching Ren’s thigh under the table. Ren smacked his hand away.

Ann stared between the two of them with sudden interest. 

“So, Ren. Akechi doesn’t go to our school. Why are you calling him Senpai?” she asked curiously.

“He lost a bet,” Akechi replied, smiling genuinely for the first time. “Amamiya got me a detective novel. He marked where he solved the case and wagered that I couldn’t solve it faster.”

“Ren! Did you seriously make that bet against a detective?” Ann asked incredulously.

Ren shrugged. “Being able to solve detective novels and being able to solve crimes need overlapping but far from identical skill sets.” 

Akechi looked at him with a soft smile.

“Agreed. There were numerous inaccuracies in the novel regarding proper police procedure and handling of evidence, but I ignored them for the sake of the game,” he said. “I’ll pick the next one, though, Amamiya. There are some authors that do it better than most.”

Ren nodded, noting with relief that the weird tension seemed to be temporarily gone. Ann and Akechi had begun speaking normally, so Ren took the backseat in the conversation, happy to see his friends getting along. 

* * *

Takamaki had taken charge of the shopping expedition with the ferocity and experience of a general. She had first asked after their clothing preferences. Amamiya liked turtlenecks, v-necks, belts, and suspenders. Goro liked button-ups, sweaters, and ties. They both liked red, white, and black, though Goro liked blue and Amamiya liked gray. Takamaki had condemned them both as “super boring,” but had actually stuck to their preferences. 

As much as it pained Goro to admit, Ann Takamaki had excellent taste. She was also beautiful, honest, sweet, etc. On top of all of that, she worked as a model. Goro couldn’t put the words on why exactly it bothered him so much, but seeing her and Amamiya be so _friendly_ with each other gave Goro heartburn—a scorching sensation in his chest accompanied by a cold surge of competitiveness. 

As soon as Takamaki had joined them, Amamiya had gone from being teasing and articulate to reticent. Goro wondered if Takamaki made Amamiya shy because he had a pathetic little crush on her. That would be so annoying. 

“No way, Ren! You have a piercing!” 

Ugh, Takamaki was so loud— Wait, what?

Goro turned to Amamiya in surprise. 

“I got it when I turned 16. I haven’t been wearing anything recently so it’s actually starting to close up,” Amamiya explained. 

“But why did you get it?” Takamaki asked. “Aren’t you from the country? I thought it was looked down upon there.”

“It is. I didn’t tell anyone about it.”

“Your parents must have freaked,” Takamaki said. 

Amamiya shrugged. “They never found out.” 

He had a left ear piercing. Goro hadn’t pictured him as the type before, but now that he knew, it just _fit_.

“Here, Ren, try this,” Takamaki said, handing Ren a dove gray turtleneck with buttons. 

She turned to Goro and tossed him a summery blue button up. “For you.”

“Thanks,” Goro replied, heading into one of their trial rooms. He took his gloves off so the buttons wouldn’t be a hassle.

The shirt was his style and it fit well. Overall, a nice find. He should thank Takamaki for it; keep his reputation up. He sighed, irritation bubbling up at the thought of being forced to play nice with Amamiya’s… _friend_.

There was a knock on his fitting room door. Goro undid the latch to open it, and Amamiya’s sheepish face greeted him. He slipped inside the cramped stall, closing the door behind him. Goro’s heart did a somersault.

“Can you help me with these buttons? I don’t have enough proficiency to do it behind my back.”

“Let’s see if I fare any better,” Goro replied. The color of the turtleneck made Amamiya’s eyes look a striking shade of gray. He turned around, revealing a triangle of milky skin. The buttons would secure the turtleneck in place so it hugged the neck.

Goro ran his bare hand across Amamiya’s neck to pull the buttons and the fasteners closer. Amamiya trembled almost imperceptibly in response, and Goro bit his lip hard.

The buttons were made in Hell: slippery seed pearls with tiny elastic loops to hook them. Goro’s sweaty palms did not help matters in the slightest. He tried for almost five minutes and eventually managed to fasten one of them. It was in the wrong loop. Fuck.

“If we’re having so much trouble with the buttons, there’s no point in buying this,” Amamiya said. “I won’t be able to do them myself.”

“That’s a shame,” Goro said awkwardly. “It suits you.”

Amamiya fiddled with his bangs, not making eye contact. His face was pink.

“Thanks. I like your button up too. Blue is a nice color on you.”

Goro flushed. “Thank you.”

“I’ll head back to my stall now.” 

Takamaki greeted them as soon as the door swung open, one eyebrow raised.

“You guys were in there for a while,” she said, her voice decidedly neutral. 

What was she thinking? It was possible that she was jealous, having caught them emerging from the same changing room, Amamiya in a state approaching dishabille. Goro bit back an amused smirk. 

Amamiya twisted his curls out of the way, half-turning to show Takamaki the back.

“Button troubles,” he explained. 

Ugh. There was something different about him today. Around Takamaki, he was less ambiguous and playful, more direct and sweet. It was absolutely nauseating. 

“C’mere a second,” Takamaki beckoned.

Amamiya migrated towards her and she effortlessly did up the pearl buttons. Goro and Amamiya stared, agape. She gave them a cheeky smile. 

“I’ve gotten used to it,” she explained. “Women’s clothes are, like, the worst when it comes to these things. It kind of feels like they weren’t designed to be worn by yourself. If you like the outfit, you have to find a way. I have practice with all sorts of sucky fasteners and buttons, so a fancy men’s turtleneck is not a problem with my experience.” 

Goro bit his lip, irritated at being shown up. Of course, she’d be able to do it. She was a freaking model.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do them by myself, though,” Amamiya said. 

“Here: there’s a trick.” 

After showing him how to do them, Takamaki made Amamiya practice a couple of times. His slim fingers glided up and down the smooth column of his neck, attaching each pearl button in place, before removing them one by one. Goro could still feel the vague imprints of those fingers running through his hair. He looked away, face heated.

“You have to get this piece,” Takamaki said. “And the black corduroy overalls. They were so cute.”

“The overalls have a little red cat silhouette embroidered on one of the pockets,” Amamiya told Goro. “Here, I have to show you.”

He pulled Goro to his fitting room. 

Takamaki kept smiling at them like she knew something he didn’t, and Goro wanted to scream. If there was something he wasn’t seeing, he would find it out. 

*

After an hour of shopping and close observation, Goro could confidently declare that Amamiya was more comfortable around him than Takamaki. It was all in the body language, Amamiya positioning himself to angle towards Goro over Takamaki nine times out of ten. The deduction gave him a heady rush of warmth and pride. Amamiya may have some kind of interest in Takamaki, but right now, he and Goro were far closer. 

In other words, Goro was winning. So why had Takamaki been so smug earlier? Goro chewed on the question like a stale piece of gum.

She called him over for an opinion on an outfit. 

“You need to change out the belt,” Goro advised. “It’s too thin. Since your dress is all solid, I think you could get away with something that has some flair to it.” Takamaki’s eyebrows flew up. “Here, try this one,” Goro continued, handing her a better option. She took off the skimpy belt and fastened the other one, turning to look at herself in the mirror. She spun admiringly.

“That was actually great advice. Thank you, Akechi. This is perfect,” Takamaki exclaimed. Goro was a little miffed by the surprise in her voice. “I would like it if you came shopping with us again,” she added. 

He wondered if she actually meant it.

After another half hour, the three of them were finally ready to check out and leave. Goro was impressed by how low the total was for the amount and quality of clothes he had bought. 

“They’re super affordable,” Ann said, slinging her shopping bag on to her back as they exited the store. “That’s why I love coming here.”

“Thank you for bringing us,” Amamiya said, adjusting his watch on his wrist. 

“If you want to thank me, you should wear an earring to school tomorrow,” Ann said.

“Is it allowed at Shujin?” Goro asked. 

“No rule against piercings in the handbook,” Ann said. “I checked when I was thinking of getting my ears done for work.”

“I’m not sure,” Amamiya said, mouth twisting unhappily. 

“Everyone in school knows, Ren. I don’t think an earring is going to change their opinion that drastically,” Takamaki said. “Just think about it.”

Goro and Takamaki chatted about the industry as they walked back towards the station. Amamiya split off to fulfill some obligation, so they were stuck riding the train back to Shibuya together. _Great_.

“That was probably the most I’ve ever heard Ren speak on one outing,” Takamaki said, once they had found seats. “I can tell he’s comfortable around you.”

Goro smiled with his teeth. “I’ve been meaning to ask, _Ann_. Don’t most modeling agencies have a rule about dating?”

“Let me stop you right there,” she said. “Ren and I are not dating, and we have no interest in dating each other. We both like other people.”

Goro blanked.

Amamiya liked someone else? It didn’t really matter, he supposed, but as Amamiya’s so-called best friend, wasn’t it his right to know? 

“He likes someone?” The words slipped out before Goro could help it.

“Well, he hasn’t told me. I’m just making a guess,” Ann replied, almost sly.

For all her good-naturedness, Ann did not seem terribly bright. She was most likely mistaken. Amamiya and Goro talked so often that if Amamiya _did_ become infatuated with someone, Goro would be the first to know. While Amamiya hadn’t told him about Kamoshida (his blood still boiled about that), Goro couldn’t imagine he would hide something as insignificant as a little crush as well. 

Speaking of Kamoshida, he should question Ann about him next. Maybe she could provide a different perspective on the incident.

When he asked, her face grew tense. Something sharp flitted across her eyes.

“He deserves to rot in Hell,” she said, viciously. “He drove my best friend… into doing something… terrible to herself. I’m sure Ren has told you. I can’t forgive him.”

Goro made the connection in an instant. Her friend had been the one to attempt suicide. 

“How is she recovering?” Goro asked.

“She woke from her coma a few days ago and she’s started physical rehabilitation,” Ann replied. “Her strength is incredible. She inspires me every day.”

“She’s important to you,” Goro observed.

“She’s everything that really matters, I guess,” Ann replied, her eyes welling up. Luckily, she didn’t start crying. Goro was bad at comforting people. “She’s my first real friend.”

Amamiya flashed through Goro’s mind, and he shifted uneasily in his seat. His mission was his top priority; taking Shido down came before anything and anyone else.

“She’s the one, isn't she?” 

Ann nodded slowly. 

“How did you two meet?”

Her eyes brightened and she smiled like the sun.

Talking with her was refreshing. It didn’t require much thought on his part, unlike talking with Amamiya. The knowledge he had gathered from exploring restaurants for his blog came in handy, as Ann loved anything and everything sweet. While their conversation remained surface level, Goro couldn’t quite call it shallow.

Somehow, by the end of the train ride, Takamaki convinced him to exchange numbers. 

“We should get crêpes sometime. It was nice meeting you, Akechi.”

* * *

> **Ann** : So, Ren. You and Akechi. ;-)
> 
> **Ren** : What do you mean?
> 
> **Ann** : Is there something there? 
> 
> **Ren** : We’re just friends, Ann. 
> 
> **Ann** : Are you sure?
> 
> **Ren** : Very sure, yes. 
> 
> **Ann** : Oh, okay. Haha sorry for misunderstanding. You guys just look hella cute together.
> 
> **Ren** : Thanks :-)
> 
> **Ann** : Here, I took a pic of the three of us at the store. I told you both to look, but you weren’t listening to me. :-P

Ann sent the photo. She was staring straight at the camera and smiling. Akechi and Ren were in the background, not paying attention. Akechi was captured mid laugh, sun glasses on his forehead. He was trying on the brown leather jacket Ren had found for him and he looked… _aah_. Ren’s heart fluttered. It was a nice picture.

> **Ren** : Is it okay if I send this to Akechi?
> 
> **Ann** : Yeah! Of course. You’ll be pleased to know I got his number.
> 
> **Ren** : Yes! I knew you both would make good friends :-). Sorry he was being a little prickly earlier. I think he needs some time to warm up to people. 
> 
> **Ann** : Ok, Ren. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure he was being prickly because he thought you and I were dating. He asked about it after you left and was much nicer once I clarified that we weren’t.
> 
> **Ren** : Why would that make him prickly?
> 
> **Ann** : Haha. Ok.
> 
> **Ren** : ?
> 
> **Ann** : Sometimes when your bff gets a partner, it’s common to be a little jealous of that partner because you’re worried your bff will spend less time with you. Like, if Akechi started dating someone, wouldn’t you feel a little jealous?
> 
> **Ren** : Oh. 
> 
> **Ren** : Yeah, I guess I would. Should I reassure him?
> 
> **Ann** : Nah, I think he’s good now. 

Ren stared at the picture Ann took for a little too long before he finally sent it to Akechi.

> **Amamiya** : Hey, Ann took a picture of all of us.
> 
> **Akechi** : Thank you. It’s a lovely candid shot, isn’t it?

Ren translated. 

> **Amamiya** : Apparently Ann told us to look at the camera but we weren’t paying attention.
> 
> **Akechi** : Ah, I see. Still, it’s a good photo.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Yes :-)
> 
> **Akechi** : Are you back home from your obligation?
> 
> **Amamiya** : Yup. I’m just about to eat dinner. How about you? 
> 
> **Akechi** : I haven’t had the time yet. I have some work to do.
> 
> **Amamiya** : Do you want to come over? We could have a working dinner. I’ll make you coffee. :-)
> 
> **Akechi** : I can’t. Sorry. I’ll talk to you later.

Surprising. Akechi rarely turned down a meal at Leblanc.

> **Amamiya** : That’s okay. Hope everything goes well, Sherlock. :-)
> 
> **Akechi** : Thanks, Watson.

*

*

*

They were studying in one of the booths in Leblanc. Ren had exams this week. Usually, the two of them could focus pretty well beside each other, but they were going a little stir crazy today. Ren glanced at the TV, and The Politician appeared on the screen. A pulse of anxiety rushed through Ren at the sound of his voice. He yanked on his curls hard.

“Hey, are you okay?” Akechi asked, concerned. 

Ren grabbed the remote and changed the channel to some bit about an upcoming art gallery. 

“I’m fine.”

They fidgeted, accidentally bumping knees, trying to stay on task.

“Will you play one round with me?” Akechi requested, gesturing to the chessboard.

“I want to, but exams start tomorrow. I have to focus.” Ren sighed. “How goes your studying?”

“My exams are next week, but I feel pretty prepared. If I quiz you on the material for a little bit, will you play?”

“Yes,” Ren said, giving up. He tossed Akechi his study guides. “I’ll make us some coffee real quick.” 

Ren began prepping for pour over, grinding the coffee beans so they weren’t too coarse or fine. Akechi followed each of his motions, his gaze heavy. Ren looked up, raising an eyebrow in askance.

“I suppose I should start learning to make real coffee. I won’t always be able to come here.”

“What do you mean? Not planning on staying a regular when you’re a sleep-deprived college student next year?” Ren teased.

Akechi paused. “What if I went to college in a different district?”

“Hmm. Then I guess I’d have to sneak into your class to give you your daily dose of caffeine. Sojiro really can’t afford to lose any more regulars.” Ren poured the water over the grounds in slow and steady spirals. “He’d also be heartbroken if you stopped coming in and solving all his crosswords for him, so attendance on the weekends is mandatory, no matter what, Sherlock.” 

Akechi’s face went blank. He remained silent for almost an entire minute. Ren waited patiently, getting out the milk and honey for Akechi’s cup.

“Would he actually care?” Akechi finally muttered, glancing away.

“He likes you, you know.” Ren smiled cheekily. “He thinks you’re a good influence on me.”

Akechi didn’t respond. He shuffled through Ren’s study guides absent-mindedly, looking like a zombie. After a few minutes, his phone buzzed. He picked it up, checked the screen, and put it back down immediately. 

“Ugh, your friend keeps texting me,” Akechi complained. 

He wasn’t sounding that unhappy about it. Ren hid a smile.

“Ann thinks you must be lonely with how hectic your schedule is.”

Akechi grumbled. “I’m not lonely. If I do get lonely, I just come find you. You entertain me well enough.” 

Ren’s heart tossed overboard like it was on a ship. Akechi froze at his own words, discomfort etched on his face. Ren gently changed the topic.

“What do you guys talk about?” 

“This and that. We complain about our coworkers a lot.”

“But I thought you liked Sae?”

“No, Sae is fine. I mean my other coworkers. I’m only with Sae for the mental shutdowns.”

“Oh. Does she know about the… _you know_?” Ren asked.

“The cognitive world? No, she doesn’t. You haven’t gone back there, right?” Akechi asked, not looking up from Ren’s papers. 

“I’ve kept our promise,” he answered, sincerely. 

“Good.” 

Akechi looked worn out. His eyes were puffy and slightly red like he’d been awake too long, and his hair was ruffled like he wasn’t paying quite the same attention to styling it in the morning. He usually pinned it back when they were studying, but today it was falling all over his face.

“Have you been sleeping okay?” 

“Not really,” Akechi replied.

“That sucks,” Ren said, coming over to the table with their coffee. “Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want some tea instead?”

“No. I’ll be fine,” Akechi said dismissively, reaching for his cup. He made an appreciative moan after taking a sip of the coffee. Ren bit his lip at the sound, face heating. He pulled his cup closer, nursing it for warmth.

Akechi glanced at him from the other side of the table. There was a shadow lurking under the bones of his face, but Ren couldn’t pry. Akechi was a private person. He wouldn’t share unless he wanted to, and Ren pushing at his boundaries wouldn’t end well.

“Thank you, Ren.”

Akechi smiled, bittersweet, and all Ren could think was that it was the first time Akechi had addressed him by his first name. He took another sip of his coffee to calm his heart down. 

Everything was normal.

They played a round of chess after Ren passed Akechi’s mock quiz. 

They watched the new Feathermen episode and ate dinner together like usual. 

Ren walked Akechi to the station.

Later, they texted each other good night.

Morgana curled up on his chest to sleep, a reassuring weight.

Everything was normal.

Everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon that while Ren is JRPGing in his POV, Akechi's brain is just one of the Nancy Drew games where you have to solve mysteries and interrogate people. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos! I appreciate it so much <3
> 
> You can follow me on twitter at @AbsenceofRoses if you want. I will try to do fic updates on there and previews and stuff if you guys are interested, so let me know :-). 
> 
> Detailed TW: Suicide warning (Shiho).


	8. i am half sick of shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro struggles with Ren's increasing importance in his life and what it means for his plans.

Goro sat on top of his comforter, folded into himself in the dark. He’d jolted awake from a mosaic of bloody, broken images and sleep was still eluding him now. The nightmares had only grown more grotesque and frequent, the malformed ridges of his mind brought to light.

 _Sickening yellow eyes, the voice of god_. 

And Goro never used to dream. When he closed his eyes, he used to float in an immense dark oblivion and it used to be the only time he found peace. Maybe he had traded one haven for another. Maybe he was only allowed one sanctuary at any given time. Maybe that was more than he deserved.

In the beginning, before the cards had fallen the way they did, he had just wanted _her_ back. Or, at least something to get rid of his grief. The thought of having to live with it forever was unbearable. 

He’d found Shido. The bastard who’d started it all and his only path to closure. He’d gotten tangled up in the brambles of The Conspiracy. He’d seen just how sick they all were with his own eyes, the cruel adults that pulled the strings of this world. They threw around their money and weight like the plumages of arrogant birds. He served them while plotting their demise. 

Through Shido’s influence, Goro had taken on the role of the Detective Prince. He didn’t exactly _like_ playing the part per se, but he liked everything that came with the title: the acknowledgement, the respect, the adoration. The Detective Prince had been curated to appeal to the Kings of this twisted society, and now they were finally elevating him instead of trodding him underfoot. People envied his existence. Strangers were praising him and it felt _so_ good. 

So why was he still riddled with what ifs?

For example: If Shido knew Goro was his son from the beginning, would he have cared for him? Would he have cared enough to not ask him to kill anyone? Then, when Goro found Ren again, maybe they could have… They could have _what_? What did he want?

Another take. Shido was capricious as hell. If he was in a particularly venomous frame of mind, he might have just offed Goro to spare himself the trouble altogether. Especially, if Goro hadn’t brought anything immediately useful to the table.

Or maybe he would have used their familial bond to try and control him. He would have tried to dictate everything under the guise of benevolent paternalism. He would have run Goro ragged and disowned him in the end, just another bastard child.

Or maybe not. Maybe he would have kept Goro away from business and supported him through school anyway because he wanted the good publicity.

Pointless, all of these scenarios. No more. A god had bestowed this power to him for vengeance. The lives Goro had to take were consecrated by that god. 

The end result would make this all worth it: Shido groveling for his son’s forgiveness while Goro took away everything he had one by one. 

_Go ask my mother for forgiveness_ , he would say. _Let me know her answer, then I’ll think about helping you get it all back_. His mother would have never forgiven Shido. She had been cast out of her family, charged to raise Goro alone, and forced to turn to whatever means she could to support them as a result of Shido’s assault. Shido loving him would never be enough to make Goro forgive that. 

If Shido did love him unabashedly, Goro didn’t even think he could accept it. The only people he had ever liked receiving affection from was his mother and, much as he hated to admit it, Ren. 

He should have never befriended Ren Amamiya. It was years too late for them. 

Because Goro’s plan for vengeance was amorphous, but on all days, it ended with death. If he succeeded, Shido’s loyal lap dogs wouldn’t let him live past the hour they learned of his betrayal. If he failed, Shido would kill him, plain and simple as that. There was no room for regrets. He was in too deep to leave the Conspiracy without repercussions. 

So why did this have to happen now? 

Never in a million years would Goro have thought that he’d find anyone who could get under his skin like Ren did. Nor had he ever thought he could get so close to someone so quickly. Ren always made him feel a little too much. He hated it.

When they had last spoken at Leblanc, another late night spent getting far too intimate for comfort, Ren had casually spoken of next year. It was improbable. He was on probation and Goro was on a death row of his own making. But Ren had said next year, and suddenly, stupidly, Goro wanted to be there. 

There at Leblanc: Ren making him coffee behind the bar; solving crosswords; studying together; chess games; pillow fights; talking for hours and hours until their voices got so hoarse they couldn’t even whisper. Ren falling asleep on him, curled up close like Goro was something more than sharp edges, hollow masks, and bitter spite. 

He wanted it so bad he couldn’t breathe. 

Ren was his _memento mori._ A reminder of all the things he couldn’t have. 

Break point. 

Regrets were dangerous. A game with Shido was a dance with the devil. If Goro wasn’t willing to put everything, his life included, on the table to take him out, the cards would reverse and Goro would be the one losing everything, Ren included. Because if Shido knew what Goro was planning, nothing would be spared. 

And that wasn’t the only danger.

If Shido found out that Ren could access the Metaverse… 

Fuck. Goro could only imagine the things he would make Ren do. The experiments, the shutdowns. His stomach twisted. Ren wasn’t like him. Ren would break.

He cursed his naïve 15 year old self who had blindly approached Masayoshi Shido like a moth to a burning house. Now he was stuck under a collapsing roof of bad decisions and there was no way out for him.

But Ren could still escape unscathed. 

Goro just had to let him go. 

He had to rid himself of these regrets, this weakness pricking his soul, the source of his nightmares. This was his bargain with god. He ripped his heart out once for unspeakable power and now he had to do it again.

It wasn’t too late. 

Goro just had to do the right thing.

* * *

Ren couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong. It was often on his mind these days. 

He felt like he was missing a piece of his heart.

It had been almost two weeks, and he was starting to think he wouldn't be getting it back.

He hadn't understood how deeply engrained Akechi was in his life in Tokyo until now. He sometimes measured the passage of time by when their schedules lined up. Texting and calling Akechi had become part of his morning routine, his night routine. What he did when he was bored in school or work or when he found something that made him laugh or think of his best friend. And the feeling that Akechi was done with him kept reminding him of how easily his parents had discarded him. How easily his whole community had thrown him away like his life didn’t matter. 

Sometimes, Ren thought it didn’t. Sometimes, it felt like his arrest, subsequent trial, and condemnation had marked him forever; had ended him.

That would make this his afterlife.

Morgana clambered onto his chest. “Are you moping again, Joker?”

He stroked the not-a-cat once and let his hand rest on Morgana’s silky fur. “No.”

“You have other friends. He’s not worth it. Why don’t you get out of bed and go meet with Lady Ann?”

“I think I’ll take a shift at Untouchables instead.”

Iwai's cool tolerance for moodiness without inquiry would be a relief right now.

Morgana wrinkled his nose. “That gun place with the thug?”

“C’mon. He isn't that bad.” 

Morgana sniffed disapprovingly. 

Ren pulled his glasses off his face, turning them around to stare at the frames. Frames Akechi had bought for him. 

“Do you think I imagined it?” Ren asked, more to himself than Morgana. “I mean, I knew he was sad or torn about something, but being with him made me so happy I may have convinced myself that he felt the same being around me.”

Morgana sighed. “Joker, are you sure you don’t like him? You’re talking about him like he’s your boyfriend.”

“It’s not like that,” Ren protested. He paused thoughtfully. “Back home, I couldn’t get close to anyone no matter how hard I tried. I had people to talk to, but I never felt connected to anyone. Akechi’s probably my first real friend.”

Morgana settled on his haunches, still planted on Ren’s chest. “You definitely made him happy, Ren. He liked you. It’s just, sometimes people don’t want to be happy. If he was torn up about something, maybe he felt like he was losing sight of his goal. Sometimes, when I’m with you guys, I forget that I want to be human again one day. If I ever got dangerously close to forgetting or changing my mind, I’d probably leave.”

“You’d leave?” Ren asked faintly. 

“Yes,” Morgana said. “But don’t worry! The Phantom Thieves are still the best way of fulfilling my goal, so I’ll be here for a little while longer.”

“Oh,” Ren replied, wanting to turn over to hide his face. 

“If you want to take a shift, you better hurry up and get going,” Morgana observed. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going.”

Ren lifted himself off his bed and got ready in record time. He trundled down the stairs, not bothering to fix his hair. 

“Hey. Your friend not coming today?” Sojiro asked, gruff as always.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Ren replied, pushing open the door with a chime. 

His bike gleamed from the alleyway beside the store, unused. There was no point to it anymore. He had first spotted it when he and Ryuuji were jogging through Yongen Jaya. 

*

*

*

“Are you looking for a bike?” Ryuuji asked, hands in his pocket, leaning back in a slouch against the wall of the secondhand shop. The sun was just starting its descent, casting orange creamsicle light on all surfaces.

Ren nodded.

Ryuuji sauntered forward, squatting next to Ren to look at the bike in closer detail. 

“If we fix it up, you’re going to have to register it before you can take it out anywhere.”

“You’d help me?” Ren asked.

Ryuuji smacked Ren on the shoulder. “Of course, man. I’ve got some experience too, so you’ve lucked out.”

They purchased the bike and wheeled it back to Leblanc. Ren ran upstairs and grabbed his crafting tools.

Slowly, with Ryuuji’s guidance they began repairing it. The shop had spare parts when a piece of the bike was too rusted or jammed to use.

“My dad and I used to fix these up sometimes,” Ryuuji said, sounding almost wistful. “It’s probably the only good memory I have with him.”

Ryuji held the bike in place as Ren began twisting the screwdriver. When he was done fastening the gears, Ryuuji double-checked that they were firmly in place, tugging on the pieces.

“Did he teach you?” Ren asked.

“Yeah, I learned quick. Probably a good thing too. The bastard wasn’t patient enough to be any good at teaching… I guess I must have gotten that from him.” 

“I’m not so sure,” Ren disagreed. He gestured at the bicycle with the screwdriver. “You just walked me through how to do all of this. I think you’re a great teacher, bro.”

Ryuuji got flustered. “Aw, bro. You can’t just say stuff like that.” 

“But it’s true, bro.” 

Ryuuji punched Ren on the shoulder. At this rate, the bruise there would never fade. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” he said, smiling. He moved the pedals to observe how all the gears turned. “It should be good to go now.”

Ren gave the bicycle a once over. She wasn’t pretty, but she didn’t look like she was going to collapse mid-ride either. He smiled at his friend.

“You’re the best, Ryu.”

Ryuuji’s face flushed. He waved his hand dismissively. “Just tell me if it gives you any problems, ‘kay?”

Ren nodded, locking the bike in the alleyway by Leblanc. He gathered his tools and angled his head towards the café, looking back at Ryuuji.

“Curry?”

“Hell yeah!”

*

Later, after Ryuuji left, Ren took a picture of the bike to send to Akechi.

> **Amamiya** : I finally found one. If you’re still going to Inokashira this weekend, I’d be down to come with you.
> 
> **Akechi** : Unfortunately, I will not be going biking for some time. 
> 
> **Amamiya** : Oh, is everything okay?
> 
> **Akechi** : Things have gotten very hectic. I no longer have the time to waste with frivolous things. I will be busy for quite some time. 

That was cold. Usually, when Akechi was occupied, he framed it differently.

> **Amamiya** : That sounds stressful. Best of luck with everything. I’ll be here if you need a break, even if it’s just for coffee. :-)

That was the start of Akechi’s serial avoidance of him, all the way back before Madarame. 

The name still gave Ren a rush of fury—a tinge of iron in the back of his throat. Images reeled through his mind. The Museum of Vanity and the infinite spring of potential. Madarame raising his students for slaughter. Yusuke. Before his fury could overcome him, Ren breathed in and out, letting it go.

At first, his promise to Akechi had weighed heavily on his mind. 

But then, they’d met Yusuke. 

There was no way they could have left him alone. Yes, they had to drag him into their ragtag group of Thieves kicking and screaming, but now, it couldn’t be any more clear that they belonged with each other. If Akechi found out, Ren would face the consequences without a single regret.

Politicians talked lofty ideals, whispering corruption in their smoke-filled back rooms, doing nothing, caring for nothing. Ren had learned the hard way that there was no justice but the one you made yourself, so he was dedicating himself to reshaping this twisted society with the Thieves. They had been given a place next to each other and a duty to uphold. They, who had been forsaken by the rest of the world.

Akechi gave Ren a similar sense of camaraderie, even though he was technically a celebrity, not an outcast. His soul was an optical illusion Ren couldn’t puzzle out.

And Madarame’s palace had been filled with optical illusions—spot-the-difference games and penrose stairs. In the end, Ren had seen through it all. His third eye had blinked open and guided them through. At some point his instincts had overtaken his senses.

Maybe it was his own arrogance. He thought he’d understood Akechi just a little—at least the loneliness in him. But it was becoming increasingly apparent that he’d been looking at Akechi from the other side of a glass wall. He was reaching through an abstract barrier, heat transferred through handprints on the surface, but he couldn’t feel Akechi reaching back for him anymore. 

He wondered if Akechi considered him a frivolous thing.

It may be fitting.

People spoke of true selves, like it was a given that everyone had one and was sequestering it inside themselves like something sacred, but if Ren wrenched open his cage of bones, he already knew there wouldn’t be anything inside. 

His inner core was liquid: shifting bits of molten glass refracting light outwards like a spinning prism. He occupied different spaces around different people and reflected different patterns and colors of light. The various iterations of himself that surfaced around all of his friends and confidants fit snugly like a glove. 

But, when he was around Akechi, he loved the shape he took on best. It was his favorite, the most comfortable, the most free; the most real, if such a thing even existed. He imagined telling Akechi: _I like who I am when I’m with you_. Would he even know what Ren meant?

*

There were other things that made Ren feel less translucent, and he leaned into them in Akechi’s absence. 

For example, fighting in the Metaverse as Joker: the strongest version of himself. The need to rapidly devise battle strategy and adjust as he gained intel on their enemies left very little mental energy for doubts. All the background noise was eliminated until only his resolve, razor sharp like a crimson chain, remained. He devoted everything to keeping them alive. They relied on him in that World and this one, and he would rather die than let them down.

It was difficult to admit, but the blood and pain he spilled from brawling a strong shadow one on one was also immensely grounding. He didn’t mean to seek it out; it just happened. When he fought alone, he could finally let himself go, the stinging ache of his wounds a constant reminder that he was still alive. None of his friends commented on his carelessness throughout Madarame’s palace, so it couldn’t have been that noticeable. 

A tiny voice in Ren’s mind told him that if Akechi was there, Ren would’ve gotten a terrible scolding from the detective for his behavior. But if Akechi was there, Ren wouldn’t have been reckless in the first place, so maybe not. 

*

*

*

Ren twisted around the shadow with his grappling hook. Nothing could match this feeling of flying, tethered to the ground by only a chain. He liked being up in the air more than he liked being down on Earth.

Yusuke hit the shadows with a Mabufu. It froze 2 of them. 

“Nice, Fox!” Ryuuji gave the other boy a high five and smashed the two shadows into smithereens. 

Ann set one on fire, and it burned to death.

Ren stabbed the last one, slashing viciously with his knife. It shriveled to dust.

“I think we’ll hit the barrier next floor down. Then we can head back for today,” Morgana said.

Ren nodded. He knew he could keep going, but everyone was getting tired. After hacking away at the shadows in their path and opening a few chests, they finally hit the down escalators. 

The final floor of Aiyatsubus: the wall awaited them, twisted red cobwebs etched along a cool stone surface. It pulsed with some eerie energy that gave Ren the chills. If he stood too close, he could almost hear it whispering.

“How many floors do you think we have left?” Ann asked.

“It’s hard to say,” Morgana replied. “But we have a long way to go.”

Yusuke was sitting on the floor, sketching the door. Ren crouched beside him, watching the drawing come to life. 

“Let’s head back up, yeah?” Ryuuji asked.

“We’ll give it a few minutes, until Fox is done,” Ren replied. 

He reached into his trench coat pocket for jagariko, setting it down next to their newest teammate. Hopefully he’d notice it once he was done with his drawing. Ren did a round, checking in on everyone, using items and healing spells when needed. No serious injuries today, thank god. The Thieves had made good progress in the brief hours they had after school. Now they only had to figure out how to get the weird door to open. It was apparently tied to their popularity or something, according to Morgana. They could save it for another trip.

Morgana and Ryuuji started bickering in the corner again. He and Ann glanced at each other and mutually decided not to bother. They settled next to each other on the floor and talked quietly until it was time to leave.

*

*

*

They returned to the Station Pass where they had made their hideout, Mementos dissolving away in pulsing red and gray loops. 

“I told my mom I’d go grocery shopping for her today, so I need to head out,” Ryuuji said, swinging his school bag over his shoulder.

“I haven’t done that essay Chouno assigned us, so I have to go too,” Ann said with a sigh. 

They split the cash from Mementos, Ren keeping the bulk of it so he could buy weapons and protectors for the team. Then the two blondes left together, leaving Morgana, Yusuke, and Ren behind. 

Yusuke’s stomach grumbled loudly.

“Are you hungry?” Ren asked. 

Yusuke looked sheepish. “I have not had any sustenance since yesterday evening.” 

Ren’s heart dropped. 

“Sheesh, you’re careless, aren’t you?” Morgana scolded.

“Come over for dinner,” Ren demanded.

“Are you sure? Then I will gratefully accept your offer.” 

Ren dragged Yusuke to Leblanc. Sojiro did not look surprised to see another one of Ren’s friends in need of feeding. 

“Hey kid, I’m not running a charity here,” he complained.

“I’ll work whenever you want me to,” Ren offered.

“Wash the dishes and close up today and we’ll call it even.”

Ren nodded. 

Sojiro and Ren made the curry together since Sojiro had finally started teaching him how. He was more hands off today, just directing Ren what to do. They added dark chocolate to the mix, and Ren popped a small square into his mouth to melt. Yusuke sat quietly on the bar, sketching the complicated machinery. Ren made him a cup of coffee to keep him company while the curry was stewing. Sojiro poured himself a cup and reluctantly told Ren he was improving. 

After they had two bowls of curry ready, Sojiro headed out for the evening. Ren moved to sit beside Yusuke, passing the curry bowl to his friend. Yusuke put aside his sketching materials to devour the hot food. 

“This is wonderful, Ren!” Yusuke complimented. “The tastes are exploding in my mouth like vibrant colors. It’s like my body is being painted by the spices.”

Morgana and Ren traded glances. 

“It’s Sojiro’s recipe,” Ren said.

“The chef’s hand is the most important influence on how a dish comes out. Even when an artist uses another work as a model, the final result will be theirs,” Yusuke said, disagreeing.

They ate quietly for a few minutes. The artist was gaunt with hunger, and Ren could almost trace his ribcage through his shirt. Madarame had starved him. Ren chewed his lip in anger, fretting over his friend. 

“Listen, if you ever need a meal, I’ve got you, okay?” 

Yusuke looked up in surprise. “Such generosity. As befitting our leader.” 

His eyes welled up and Ren looked desperately at Morgana, embarrassed.

“Mwehehe, better be grateful, Fox,” the not-a-cat cackled. Ren frowned disapprovingly.

After they finished their meal, he grabbed both of their dishes and headed to the sink to wash up. Yusuke went back to sketching Leblanc, soft skritches of his pen on paper. After Ren closed up, he grabbed the book he was reading and sat beside Yusuke feeling comforted by the artist’s focused aura. After half an hour, Yusuke began speaking. 

“It’s still hard for me to grasp that Sensei—no—Madarame’s heart was so corrupted,” he confessed. “I saw it with my own eyes, the gaudiness of his soul, yet I only have memories of his fondness. He was cruel at times, but I thought it was all for art. After all, art is materialized suffering.”

It was all too apparent that Yusuke bore complex feelings for Madarame that he needed to work through in his own time. There was only so much Ren could do. But still. 

“I don’t know if you really believe that, Yusuke. You called my curry art, but rather than any personal suffering, I was inspired by our friendship. Making someone suffer for the sake of art doesn’t sound just. I think it limits artistic expression to only painful feelings.” 

“You took inspiration from me?” Yusuke asked softly, hooking on to his second statement.

Ren nodded. 

Yusuke reached for his hand and squeezed. 

“How marvelous!” he chuckled.

He turned back to the curry bowl, a contemplative frown on his face. Ren let him percolate, one-handedly flipping to the next page of his book, stroking Morgana with the other.

“I hope to draw inspiration from both sides of humanity: our joy and our pain. Of course, at the moment, I am feeling more of the latter with the loss of Sensei—Madarame, I mean. But, know that your curry did bring me some measure of happiness. I will remember in my heart that a friend cared enough to look after me in a moment of profound emptiness.” Yusuke stared at the countertop with cloudy eyes. 

Losing a father like Yusuke had, not through death, but through their inability to love you, must feel excruciating. Ren didn’t have the right words to comfort him- maybe there were no right words- but he had to try.

“It’s not just me. All of the Phantom Thieves—we’re here for you, Yusuke. You’re not alone in this. We're a team in and out of the Metaverse.”

Yusuke's eyes brightened.

“That is true. You all took me by the shoulders and shook me out of my petulant inertia, overcoming my resistance to the truth. I’m truly lucky to have all of you.” Yusuke smiled. “I feel your presence will be helpful for me when charting my future course. Would you consider modeling for me, Ren?”

“What?” Ren asked.

“What?!” Morgana echoed, louder. “Well, I guess it’s better than Lady Ann,” he mumbled.

“Originally, when I met you all, I noted your more muted presence among your friends. You spoke less and did not stand out as much as them. Yet we have all developed a quiet reliance on your strength. I wish to capture that. What do you say?” 

Ren blushed. It was unexpectedly embarrassing, being asked such a thing. 

“I’m not sure I—”

“Please,” Yusuke begged, gripping Ren’s hand. 

Ren sighed internally, already knowing he was physically incapable of saying no to any of his friends.

“I’m not much of a model, but I’ll do what I can to help.” 

Yusuke grinned wildly.

“That’s all I ask. May I?” The artist reached forward and pulled Ren’s glasses off his face. The action acutely reminded Ren of Akechi. Yusuke started messing with his hair, and Ren endured it silently. “Hahaha, yes.” Yusuke chuckled deeply and began murmuring. “Your form is carved out of shadows—ink or charcoal is the most fitting medium to capture you. On the other hand, you remind me of the coffee you brew with your interplay of warmth and darkness. What if I were to paint you by applying freshly brewed coffee to the canvas itself? You would be rendered in sepia tones. Hmmm.”

Ren and Morgana exchanged glances again.

“It will have to be explored on another occasion. Here, Ren, stay exactly like that.” 

Yusuke reached into his pocket for a piece of charcoal. He flipped to a new page in his sketchbook and began drawing.

After Yusuke finished a rough sketch, they retreated upstairs to watch a short art documentary he had checked out from his school library on Monet. Ren didn’t know too much about art, but he liked Impressionism, especially the music. He had danced to some of the pieces before. After it was over, Yusuke rushed to the station to get home before the trains stopped running. 

Ren laid in bed, thinking about texting Akechi again. Morgana had already fallen asleep, otherwise the not-a-cat would be scolding him for moping again.

> **Amamiya** : Hey, Akechi. I know you said you’d be busy for a while, but I just wanted to check in with you and see if you were doing okay. It’s been awhile since we texted last. Is there anything I could help you with? I’m sorry if you’re going through a rough time. I know it’s late, so you might already be asleep, but if not, I hope you sleep well! 

Akechi didn’t respond until the middle of the night. 

> **Akechi** : I wanted to inform you that I will not be attending our usual meetings on Friday. I would also appreciate it if you could stop texting me good night every day. It’s distracting.

Ren’s heart convulsed like it was the wrong size for his chest cavity. He looped his fingers around his bangs as he penned out a reply. 

> **Amamiya** : Sorry. I didn’t realize it was bothering you. I’ll stop.
> 
> **Amamiya** : I know you said you were just busy, but did I do something wrong? 

No response. 

Ren bit back his panic.

What if he had mistaken how close they were, the bond they had, everything?

How much did he even know about the detective in the end? The majority of their conversations took place in the present about abstractions, books, or shows. When it got too personal, both of them tended to back down. He didn’t even know where he could find Akechi right now to confront him. He didn’t know anything. 

_We know enough_ , Arsène whispered in the back of his mind. _If we don’t do anything soon, we will likely lose him for good, ma moitié_.

 _But what can we do_ , he asked himself.

_If he’s important to us, you may have to show him how much._

Ren didn’t say anything in response, thinking late into the night.

*

*

*

Monday was the school trip to Inokashira park. Ryuuji, Ann, and Ren were all split up. It sucked. He could hear his peers complaining about being stuck with the delinquent. Ren ignored them, focused on picking up the trash. 

They ditched him during lunch, so Ren settled on a bench with Morgana.

A red haired girl approached them almost immediately. Ren had seen her around campus and the station, though they had never been formally introduced. They had even run into each other this morning. He remembered her last name being Yoshizawa or something.

“Oh! I’ve finally found you. I wanted to thank you properly,” she said.

The incident this morning had reminded him of what had happened in his old town. Ren had moved on instinct, and fortunately, the script had diverged. He was glad she was okay.

“So where are the other members of your group?”

“We’ve disbanded,” Ren explained. 

“Ah, I see… I’m in pretty much the same situation. If it’s alright with you, why don’t we eat our soup together?” 

Ren nodded. They went to get their helping from Maruki and settled back on the bench. 

The girl thanked him again then apologized for their bump-in outside the guidance office. Ren already knew all the rumors about him, but it was nice to hear at least somebody outside his friend circle didn’t believe them.

“And I know this’ll sound strange since I just met you, but you don’t seem like the kind of person they describe. It’d be a different story if all those rumors were true. What were all the crimes I’d heard? Burglary, murder, and… elephant tusk trafficking, was it?” 

“I drive without a license too,” he offered playfully.

She laughed. 

Before they could introduce themselves to one another, Yoshizawa jumped to rescue a balloon for a small child, showing off some impressive gymnastic skills. She dropped her planner as she leapt and Ren leaned over to pick it up. _Kasumi_ , he noted. 

“Here you are,” Kasumi told the child. “Don’t let go of things you like, okay?”

The kid nodded gratefully and went on her way, clutching the balloon tightly in her hand.

They went back to their conversation. Kasumi was a gymnast at Shujin as a sports honors student. Morgana was ecstatic, demanding that Ren request instruction to help them out with acrobatics in the Metaverse.

Ren asked her, just to please his not-a-cat, and they ended up making a deal. Kasumi would teach him gymnastics in exchange for advice. Ren wasn’t sure he was the best person for that, but she just needed somebody to listen. They exchanged contact information and the clean up event ended.

Makoto, the student council president, made the final announcements. She had recently started following him around everywhere. He wondered if she suspected him of something.

“Shall we get going, Senpai?”

Ren nodded and left to train with Kasumi. 

For the first time in a while, he didn’t think about Akechi. 

*

*

*

Ann finished another shoot, coming over to him once she had said all the appropriate goodbyes. 

Ren gave her a high five then dragged her to the nearest juice stand to buy aojiru. She looked on in horror as he bought them both a large. 

“Why?” Ann asked as he handed her the kale drink.

“What do you mean?” Ren replied between sips, already chugging his down.

“Why did you buy this?” Ann took a tentative sip, her face screwing up in displeasure. 

He patted her on the shoulder. “It’s good for your skin and your charm, Ann. Bottoms up.”

She looked affronted. “Excuse you. My charm doesn’t need any work, Ren!”

“Mmhm.” 

“I’m a _model_.”

Ren laughed.

She rolled her eyes. “Do you think Akechi drinks these? It could explain why he has the skin of a goddess.”

Ren flinched.

He actually knew for a fact that Akechi did drink aojiru because one time both of them had bought the juice from a stand in the Underground Walkway and raced to see who could finish it first. Ren had almost snorted aojiru out of his nose because Akechi had made him laugh mid-sip. 

“What’s with that face?” Ann asked, absent-mindedly drinking from the straw again. Her nose immediately wrinkled. 

“What do you mean?” Ren asked. 

“I mentioned Mr. Dreamy Detective and you just, like, blanked.” 

“What?” 

“Ha ha,” Ann said dryly. “Okay, what’s up, Ren?”

Ren shrugged. 

Ann frowned at him. “Did you guys have a fight?”

She was persistent as hell. He wouldn’t be getting away until he said something. Or he could just run away? Ren threw back the last of the aojiru to buy time. He could pretend to cough, then excuse himself to the bathroom. Once he made it there, it would be easy to make a break for it.

Before he could initiate the plan, Morgana emerged from his bag, resting his paws on Ren’s shoulder. “Ren’s moping because stupid Akechi’s ignoring him.”

Ren shoved him back into the school bag and zipped it up, ignoring his mewled protests. Of course his cat would betray him for Ann. Of course.

“Oh,” she said.

“Yeah,” Ren replied. He shrugged. “He’s just busy.”

“For how long?”

“A couple of weeks. He’s not really responding to my text messages.”

“How often do you guys usually talk?” Ann inquired, chewing on the straw of her cup.

“Pretty much every day. It’s been that way since we met.” 

Ann spat the straw out of her mouth. “Every day? Seriously?”

Ren nodded. “We text at least. We’ve called a few times, though not often.”

“Hmmm. Can I see your last text message exchange?”

Ren bit his lip but handed his phone over. 

Ann scrolled through the messages. “Yeah, I’m not seeing anything off. His last message is just kind of cold though. Hmm.” Ann kept scrolling. “I can’t believe you type in paragraphs, Ren. You’re more talkative over text, huh? …Oh! You sent me this cat photo too.” Ann scrolled even more. “Wait… Oh my gosh! Do you guys seriously call each other Sherlock and Watson? That’s like way too adorable.”

Ren hissed and snatched his phone back, giving Ann a disapproving frown.

She held her hands up. “Sorry!”

Ren exhaled. “Are you guys still texting?” he asked. 

Ann nodded. “I usually just send him cute cafés to feature in his food blog. I sent him one on Monday and he wrote thank you.”

Something hot and uncomfortable boiled inside Ren at the thought that Akechi preferred responding to Ann over responding to him. Ugh, he had to let it go. At least Akechi was still alive and okay. Just not interested in being Ren’s friend anymore. It was totally fine.

“Don’t look so sad,” Ann complained. “You guys kind of remind me of me and Shiho. Sometimes, there are spans of time where Shiho pushes me away. She’s more introverted than me, so she needs space to recharge. I know it’s not my fault, but it still feels weird sometimes, like I did something wrong. But, I know that if I just give her time and be there for her when she’s ready, we’ll be fine. Maybe just show Akechi that you’re there for him? Is anything special coming up?” 

Ren thought for a minute. He didn’t necessarily believe that Akechi was the more introverted one between them, but perhaps the advice could still be applied. It was almost June. Inspiration struck like a little gong going off in his head. 

“Thanks, Ann. You’ve given me an idea,” he said. “Anyway, how did visiting Shiho go the other day?”

Ann’s eyes lit up as she started to talk about the other girl. Ren’s mood slowly brightened as he listened to her tell anecdote after anecdote, complete with the appropriate voices done in Ann’s terrible voice acting. 

She was always so good at cheering everybody up. When Ren was around her, he couldn’t help but be more hopeful and optimistic about everything. It was like Ann’s secret superpower. He was fortunate to have met her.

*

*

*

> **Amamiya** : Please stop by Leblanc this Thursday evening. We need to talk. I promise I won’t bother you after this. 
> 
> **Akechi** : Ok. I will be there.

Ren couldn’t hide his smile. Finally. 

“Is there anything I can help you with? The cooking club is meeting soon,” a girl with fluffy brown hair said. 

Ren flipped the recipe book shut. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be leaving soon. I was just looking for a recipe.”

“What recipe?” the girl asked curiously.

“Tiramisu. It’s one of my friend’s favorite desserts.”

The girl looked excited. “You’re making tiramisu for your friend? How sweet! We don’t have that recipe in here, but I have one that I’d be willing to share. Does your friend like amaretto? My recipe includes some.”

Ren nodded.

“Perfect! Here, I can write it down for you. What’s your name?”

“Ren Amamiya.”

“I’m Haru Okumura. It’s so nice to meet you.” 

After Haru was done writing, Ren read over the recipe carefully, making sure he could do all the steps. 

“If you’d like, we can exchange chat IDs, so if you run into any trouble I could provide remote assistance.”

Ren smiled. It was a surprisingly kind offer. “Thank you so much. I would really appreciate that.” They traded phones. “Is there anything I could do to repay you?” 

Haru smiled. “No, no. I always love sharing recipes. Please let me know how it turns out. I just developed it recently.”

“You develop your own recipes?” Ren asked, impressed.

Haru blushed. “Yes. I’m interested in opening my own café one day so I practice by trying to work out my own pastries and desserts. I also grow my own coffee beans.”

“I’m working part-time as a barista right now at a place called Café Leblanc in Yongen-Jaya. Come over one of these days, and I’ll make you a cup on the house to repay you,” Ren offered.

“Really?!” Haru asked excitedly. “I will gladly accept your offer. It’ll be an excellent research opportunity.” 

Sojiro would be a good resource for her.

They parted ways, Ren heading to the Underground Mall. It took a while, but he eventually found what he was looking for. He just had to get permission from Sojiro to use his kitchen tomorrow now. Then he could keep the cake in the fridge for Thursday. 

He headed back to Leblanc. It was good to be finally doing something to mend their relationship instead of just being depressed about it. 

“Ah, you’re back.”

Every time Ren stepped into Leblanc nowadays, he couldn’t help but give the bar a once-over to check if Akechi was sitting there, waiting for him. Sojiro looked at him with pity. Ren ran upstairs to drop off the bags in his room before returning downstairs to explain his plan to Sojiro.

“I’m glad you’re finally patching things up between you and the detective kid. You’ve been a lot quieter without him around to make you talk. I’ll let you have the place Thursday evening if you help me out today and tomorrow.”

Ren agreed, moving behind the bar and reaching for his apron. 

If he made an honest effort and Akechi still didn’t care for him anymore then… then… 

There was a blank where the answer was supposed to be. 

Ren had never been good about losing things, people and places included. Loss tended to pile up inside of him like sheets of ice: numbing and cold. His lips were frozen and inarticulate. 

If he could have a palace, it would maybe be a snowfield or an ice labyrinth or something. It was an unpleasant thought. Ryuuji and Morgana would turn into popsicles. Ann should be okay because of her fire powers and Yusuke because of his ice ones. Arsène grumbled discontentedly in his mind, not liking the idea of Ren losing control of his shadow. 

_Don’t worry_ , he reassured the gentleman demon. _Just occupying myself with morbid thoughts_. 

_We’re too self-aware for a palace_ , Arsène commented. _Probably_.

 _You sound so sure_ , Ren teased.

He got the mental image of Arsène crossing his arms disapprovingly. He was literally scolding himself. How novel.

He couldn’t imagine actually developing a palace though. If there was anything Ren prided himself on, it was self-discipline.

He focused on making an espresso drink for a customer, tracing a heart in the foam. He was getting better at latte art. Maybe he could impress Akechi one of these days. 

… 

Or maybe not.

* * *

Loneliness was one of those things you couldn’t feel until you knew togetherness. 

Ever since his mother had died, Goro had felt physically incomplete. As a child, all Goro had understood was that the only person in the world who loved him had abandoned him, going somewhere he couldn't follow. As he got older, he learned the name Masayoshi Shido and it all made sense again. It wasn’t her fault. It was the fault of society and the fault of _that man_.

Everyone in their community had scorned them because his mother had what it took to survive. 

Until the exact day she lost it. 

Maybe Goro was the same way. He had done anything and everything to make it in a world that cared nothing for his existence. He had gotten to 15, found Shido and used him to make it to 17. 

Now, 18 was the year he would fulfill his plan. Destroy the man who had taken his mother away, then join her on the other side. That’s what he had always thought. Sometimes, he thought he wouldn’t get to see her because he’d be going straight to Hell. Other times, he thought Heaven and Hell didn’t exist and he’d just be going somewhere quiet. It sounded nice—more than he deserved.

Either way, he wouldn’t be able to face his mother until he had taken down Shido. If he had to condemn himself for it, so be it. Goro had hope, though. Some higher power had given him his Persona. Maybe that same higher power would look out for him afterwards. If not, then it didn’t matter. Goro would get what was coming to him. 

That was why Amamiya was so dangerous. Ren made him wish he was a different person—made him wish he was actually just a high school detective who could happily live a normal life with friends and school. It was enough for most people, but Goro wasn’t made to find happiness in those kinds of things. 

Goro spoke his target’s name and a little exclamation point popped up in Akzeriyyuth. He had finally gotten popular enough to access the region a month ago. It had a different vibe than Kaitul. His theory that Mementos was a huge body was further confirmed by the skeleton tracks. 

Swinging his leg over his bike, he transported to the closest safe level and began the search. A mental shutdown this time. His skin crawled. If he stopped now, he had no delusions about his fate. He was only alive so long as he was useful to Shido.

If both the means and the end result were ugly as hell, could they still justify one another? A good question for Amamiya. 

Or not. 

He found the spinning red portal and leaped through the gate. 

He was cleaning up one of his father’s uglier associates. The man ran a human trafficking ring, funneling the income into Shido’s campaign, so Shido would help pass laws allowing easier smuggling across borders. His father didn’t plan on actually following through, so it was time for the man to go.

His face was plain. Goro thought of _After Dark_ , the book he and Amamiya had read. Shirakawa, the night time office worker who beat up prostitutes in his free time. The most sinful people wore the most common faces. They unhinged it every so often, wearing their humanity like a mask. The vileness of their hearts was clear in this world, but he could be passing dozens of people with palaces every day up there and he wouldn’t even know it. In a different world, he could be one of those people. 

And sometimes Goro thought he had no right to judge them at all because there was a woman named Kaede on the train he had derailed for Shido some months ago and she was gone now. He had used Loki’s ability to dissociate as he committed the act, so he didn’t remember anything, but inducing madness in yourself to commit a crime still means you did it at the end of the day. And nobody was supposed to die—nobody had died all the previous times—only injuries were expected, but wrong place wrong time...pool balls flashed in Goro’s mind, dissipating in confounding patterns across the baize. The ones in the crossfire landed in the hole first. 

He killed his target and went back to his apartment for dinner.

In the end, he couldn’t stomach it. It wasn’t regret, the world was better off without that trash. He was just tired. He decided to brush his teeth and lie down. It was like there was a thin layer of blood on his skin. If he took a shower, he would scrub too hard to try to get rid of it. He put on his gloves so he wouldn’t scratch. He still had to go back to school tomorrow, smile at his peers, act the part of the Detective Prince.

He flopped onto the couch, turning over so he was lying on his stomach. 

He wanted Ren. 

It was a stupid, idiotic, childish thought and he pinched his clammy skin hard to punish himself for thinking it. Amamiya had already contacted him to end things on Thursday. Goro knew it was only a matter of time. You push someone away hard enough, you hurt them enough, and they wouldn’t come back. He had always been gifted in driving people away, though most of the time he didn’t have to exercise his talents on purpose. It just sort of happened. 

Goro grabbed his bag, hoping his school work would distract him. He had chosen the humanities route, but he still had some math work to complete. He had signed up to take his college entrance exams in a few weeks, but everything dangled so uncertainly now. He had gotten the same test center as Sae’s little sister. 

Goro’s phone buzzed. He reached for it eagerly, already knowing it would be Amamiya wishing him good night—except, no, he had told the other boy to stop. It was Shido congratulating him on a job well done. He flung the phone on to the floor, almost wanting it to break. It didn’t, of course. 

Goro rested his head on the coffee table and closed his eyes. 

Raison d’être: the phase echoed in his mind. His raison d’être was vengeance. It was ironic because his call to the death was also vengeance. It brought him back to _Hamlet_. 

But _Hamlet_ made him think of Amamiya now, and he couldn’t do that anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are both dramatic and sad. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! I am so so grateful <3
> 
> I have reread and edited this chapter so many times and I'm still not completely happy with it. It is a mini turning point in a sense for the story but it was a tough chapter both to write and to read over so many times. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> I love Yusuke so much. I know I glossed over Madarame's palace, but Yusuke will get his screentime bc he is the best.
> 
> _Akechi: Thanks to you, I am saddled with unnecessary... feelings._
> 
> DTW: Akechi and Ren both have some suicidal thoughts this chapter. Akechi way more than Ren. Also, Akechi causes a mental shutdown in someone this chapter. He talks about dissociating. There is some self-harm impulses from both. It is more explicit in Akechi's POV. Goro's mom's suicide is also referenced many times. Please take care. This chapter is a little rougher than normal with the angst. 
> 
> You can follow me on twitter @AbsenceofRoses! <333


	9. miles to go before i sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to head at Café Leblanc. Akechi and Ren reaffirm their bond.

_Clean breaks were best._ The phrase played on repeat in Goro’s mind as he made his way to Café Leblanc. The sky was overcast and darker than Ren’s eyes, slow rain droplets bursting on the ground like pottery. Goro kept the hood of his raincoat up even though it would mess up his hair. 

The lights were unexpectedly dim inside. Goro peered through the glass door. The café was empty, the sign flipped to ‘Closed.’ Ren was leaning his back against the bar, slim ankles crossed, snapping a lighter on and off with a flick of his thumb. His face was blank as he stared at the flames, and Goro was too far away to deduce how he was really feeling. Ren’s eyelashes casted shadows on his cheekbones in the unsteady light.

And Goro had thought he’d carved everything about Ren into his memories, but no—his body had completely forgotten how Ren made him feel on a physical level: tingly, a little electric, like his heart could explode.

 _Remember your objective,_ Robin Hood urged.

Goro opened the door and it greeted him with a chime. 

The flame went out.

It was the same. The smile Ren always gave him when they met, the warm, enthusiastic smile that said, _I’m glad to see you_ —How was it the same? How could Ren even look at him like that anymore?

Goro dropped his briefcase with a clatter. 

Desperate to look anywhere else, he glanced at the rest of the café. 

Ren had hung fairy lights across the back shelves. Two wrapped boxes and a small cake, dusted with cocoa powder, was placed in front of Goro’s usual spot at the bar.

“Happy birthday, ‘Kechi,” Ren said.

And Goro hadn’t forgotten that it was today; his fans and coworkers had been wishing him since morning. But he’d never expected Ren to do anything like this. 

The past two years in Tokyo, he’d spent his birthday alone in his apartment. Before that, he’d spent it in cars, closets, and other strange, transitory places that only lingered half in his mind, if at all. And before that... 

_She_ flashed in the backs of his eyelids, the image blurring into spilled crimson.

Some birthdays she’d held him close and told Goro he was her hero—her light. Some birthdays she’d scrounged and saved and pinched enough for a sweet treat or a second-hand Feathermen toy. Some birthdays she’d come back from work angry and drunk and hurting. She’d cry for hours behind her bedroom door before drying her face and making him pancakes for breakfast like nothing had happened. She’d never said it, but Goro had always been excruciatingly aware of the pain his existence had caused her—where that pain had ultimately led her. 

Her death reel played and a sharp, ripping pain seared through his chest like a stab wound. He bit his lip until he tasted iron, eyes burning. 

His birth wasn’t something to rejoice in.

“What are you trying to do with all of this?” Venom, spilling from his mouth. Ren looked taken aback by his tone. 

“What do you mean?”

The rage was blinding, white and hot like a comet. Goro shook.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he spat. “What are your real motives? I’ve been cruel to you for two weeks and this is your response? Baking me a fucking cake? What the hell do you think this is?!”

Ren placed the lighter down on the bar. His face was unreadable. 

“Aren’t we friends?” he asked, disarmingly soft.

Goro wanted to reach forward, shake him by the shoulders, and scream.

Ren was reaching right into his chest cavity, tearing past muscle, bone, and viscera, wrapping his fingers around Goro’s heart. 

It _hurt_ like **hell**.

Ren was getting too close. Goro couldn’t— This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

His words spilled out in a panic, stabbing at the first thing that would hurt.

“As if I’d ever be friends with some pathetic criminal trash like you. Did you think I liked you?” Goro laughed, diaphragm spasming painfully, hysteria overtaking him. His hands were trembling so hard. He balled them into fists, digging the crescents of his nails into his palms through the fabric of his gloves. “I _hate_ you. I wish you’d just leave me alone!”

 _It’d make things a hell of a lot easier_.

Ren flinched like he’d been shot.

The expression gouged another wound into Goro’s withering heart. 

No, No, No. 

He couldn’t be here anymore.

He turned around and fled Leblanc. 

After five minutes of blind running in the rain, he got lost in the backstreets. The storm had rendered the byways and alleys unrecognizable. He shouldn’t have come here in the first place. He finally crumpled by a red mailbox, the rain pounding into his body. His pants were caked inches up the hem in mud. 

He was a filthy liar. He wanted to take it all back. Try again. He didn’t mean— 

Fuck! He’d messed up so bad. 

Ren was going to hate him. The grief in his eyes would turn to contempt soon enough. Despite Goro’s original intentions, the thought was unbearable. 

_Good fucking job,_ he congratulated himself bitterly. _You just ruined your relationship with the one person who actually gave a fuck_.

And he had wanted to break things off, but not like _that_. He hadn’t thought it through enough, so he had been taken off guard by Ren’s easy forgiveness. If he’d just been angry like he was supposed to be, it would have been simple. It was only a stupid birthday cake and some stupid presents. Nothing worthy of revealing how ugly he was to Ren. Nothing worthy of hurting him.

The rain stopped. 

Goro looked up. 

Fuck, it was him. Ren was kneeling, holding up a dark blue umbrella. His gunmetal eyes were piercing; damp curls pressed against his forehead like he had been frantically running.

“You’re such a fucking drama queen. At least take an umbrella the next time you decide to storm off into the rain.”

Goro buried his face back into the collar of his raincoat. He was miserable and wet. 

“Fuck off.” 

Ren smiled at him, disorienting him immediately. _What the hell?_

“Nah, don’t think so.” He sat down next to Goro in the dirty, muddy street corner, their shoulders lightly touching, holding his stupid umbrella over their heads. 

Goro stared, uncomprehending. He blinked but Ren didn't go away. 

Why the hell was he here? Was he looking down on him? 

“I don’t want your misguided pity,” Goro hissed.

“You don’t have it. I just want to know what happened in there,” Ren replied firmly.

Goro scoffed mockingly. “Oh, so you’re curious about what a fuck up I am. Is that it?”

Ren frowned. “No. I want to know if you’re okay.”

“Do I look okay?”

“You don’t.” 

_Why did he even care?_

Goro looked at him suspiciously. 

“What are you trying to achieve by doing all this?”

Ren sighed, leaning back against the wall behind them. 

“Well, your friendship, I suppose. That’s generally how it goes.”

“And why do you want to be friends with me? What are you getting out of this? Don’t pretend to be righteous. I know you’re just using me. You’re no different than anyone else,” Goro spat, low and furious. 

Ugly words kept falling out of his mouth like jagged pieces of glass.

He had never achieved this level of honesty with anybody else in his life. He attempted to grasp the mask of the Detective Prince before the damage became irreparable, but it was out of his reach. 

And, it wasn’t Ren. It was everyone that had used him as another income source, as an outlet for their fury, as a canvas for their scars, as an assassin. It was everyone else who had seen him and just _taken taken taken_ like he was a fresh corpse for scavengers. Was it any wonder Goro wished he were dead?

Ren sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. 

“Yeah, I guess I am using you.”

Bitter triumph and an equal measure of disappointment spiralled up through Goro. He clenched his hands into fists.

“I fucking knew it.” 

Ren turned to look at him, their faces mere inches apart. 

“Just listen to me, okay? I’m bad at this kind of thing, but I have to tell you or I’ll regret it.” Ren exhaled slowly, his warm breath brushing Goro’s skin. “Being around you is exciting. Arguing with you and competing with you is fun. Probably the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. Losing to you makes me want to become better so I can beat you next time. When you come over to study or play chess with me, I never want you to leave because—“ Ren blushed darkly, heat emanating from his skin “—because whenever you’re around I’m happy. So I guess I’m just using you to be happy. Feel free to use me to the same effect. It should go both ways. If it doesn’t, I’ll leave you alone. But, I want to be on your side even if you hate me. I just don’t want to lose yo—”

Goro shoved Ren hard against the wall, ugly tears streaming down his face. 

“You’re cheating!” he screamed, sobbing. “You’re not allowed to— You can’t— Fuck, I really hate you!” 

Ren opened his mouth. 

“Shut up!” Goro yelled before Ren could say anything. “You fucking win. I can’t deal with you. You’re too much.”

He tried to wipe his face with his damp sleeve, limbs trembling like an earthquake. Something heavy and chained inside of him tore apart like a collapsing edifice, dissolving into an ocean of light exploding inside of him too powerful to contain. 

Goro was breaking. He was _breaking_. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

His tears flowed uncontrollably from some fracture inside, leaving him empty. 

He was so empty.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Warm arms reached for him, wrapping around him, cradling him close in an embrace.

Goro shattered.

_Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Don’t—_

“I won’t,” Ren promised.

Goro closed his eyes, his lungs filling with light.

* * *

Akechi hadn’t meant what he said. It was written in every suffering line of his face. There was no malice in his eyes, only despair spilling down in streaks and streaks. The rain couldn’t hide it.

Ren reached forward and hugged him. He stiffened like he couldn’t process what was happening. Ren thumbed a tear away before tucking his chin over Akechi’s shoulder, holding him close, trying to convey without words everything.

Ren had met so many people in Tokyo, but no one could ever hope to match Akechi.

 _You’re my favorite person_.

Just as he loosened his grip to let Akechi go, he was tackled to the ground. 

Akechi pressed his damp face into Ren’s neck, gripping him tight enough to bruise. Ren dropped the umbrella to rub circles across his shuddering back.

“Don’t leave,” Akechi whispered.

“I won’t.”

 _You’re no different than anyone else_ , the words writhed in the back of Ren’s mind like snakes. How many people had hurt him? How many people had taken advantage of him?

Whoever they were, Ren wouldn’t forgive them. Akechi was a year older than him and would hardly appreciate the sentiment, but Ren felt overwhelmingly protective of him.

He ran his fingers gently through Akechi’s hair and let his eyes slide shut.

The rain and mud seeped through his clothes, but Akechi’s body was warm against his, heat shared between their skin. The two of them were melded together like ouroboros, limbs encircling each other in infinity signs, helter skelter on the ground. The closeness was reassuring after weeks of absence.

After a small eon, Akechi pulled back to look at Ren, exhaling slowly. Their arms were still looped around each other.

“You give your loyalty away too easily,” he scolded, voice thick. 

Tough till the end. That was just like him. Ren hid a smile.

“Not as easily as you think. For some reason, I just ended up liking you.”

Akechi scoffed. “You’re a fool.”

Ren shrugged. “It’s my choice where I invest my loyalty.” A trickle of mischief danced across his face. “To put it on your terms, I’m using you to keep it for me.” 

Akechi cuffed him on the shoulder.

“You’re not half as funny as you think you are,” he said, scowling. He paused, staring Ren dead in the eye. “We’re _never_ speaking of this again.”

“Whatever you need,” Ren agreed. “We’re going to end up sick if we don’t get out of the rain.”

“Let’s go to the bathhouse.” 

Ren nodded. He slowly disentangled himself from Akechi, standing up and brushing himself off. His legs were asleep, blood rushing down in sharp pin pricks. He offered Akechi a hand. 

Akechi accepted, pulling himself up. Their umbrella had flown several yards away. Ren jogged to recover it before the wind could pick it up. 

They walked back to Leblanc, sharing what little shelter the umbrella offered. They were already soaked wet so there was almost no point to it. 

_It was the principle of it_ , Ren supposed. 

He put the tiramisu in the freezer to chill before he grabbed two sets of pajamas, towels, and bathing supplies from upstairs. Akechi waited outside to avoid dripping water and mud in the café. 

*

They had the bathhouse to themselves again. Akechi was silent and pensive. Ren gave him the space to think. Ren’s voice was more than a little hoarse anyways. He had used up all his words for the rest of his life. He was only going to talk in grunts now, like a caveman.

Even thinking about his confession filled him with deep embarrassment. It was all true, but he never thought he’d be saying any of it out loud. He commended his past self for his courage.

But then again, he’d never seen Akechi that… vulnerable before. It was both alarming and intoxicating to be trusted with that side of him. 

Vulnerability deserved to be met with vulnerability. Ren would never leave him hanging. He would stay until Akechi inevitably got sick of him. 

He sank down into the tub, melting into the hot water. 

His limbs were finally waking up.

* * *

Goro couldn’t do it. He couldn’t give up Ren. He didn’t want to.

He’d been such a cowardly fool, jumping at shadows, afraid of his own feelings.

What did it matter if he would die one day? Until that moment, this was his. 

His to safeguard. His to cherish.

Somehow, his meager existence in this world was enough to bring someone happiness. To bring Ren happiness. Just by existing. 

Goro was an unwanted, throw away child. Even now, nobody wanted _him_ , they only wanted the Detective Prince. But, Ren had seen him, held his arms out to him, and… 

It was too much to believe; so much so it hurt. 

Maybe he’d finally done something right in his life if he’d been given this. 

He made up his mind. Fuck Shido. Fuck the Conspiracy. Fuck Society. He was going to be selfish. He was going to make it all go his way. He was going to get his revenge on Masayoshi Shido and keep Ren safe by his side until the day he died. He didn’t care anymore; he was going to win.

Goro looked up across the pillars of steam rising from the bath. Ren was almost asleep on the other end of the tub, eyes half-lidded, curled into himself. When they made eye contact, he nervously jolted upright, sending a tiny wave towards Goro. 

Goro wanted to laugh. He was beginning to find everything Ren did endearing on some level. 

“Your skin’s gone bright red. We should go back to Leblanc.”

Ren nodded.

They wrapped towels around their damp bodies and headed to the locker room to grab their clothes. 

The urge to bind them together somehow was overwhelming. A promise. 

Goro cleared his throat, his cheeks flushed. Ren turned to him immediately, giving Goro his full attention.

“You said I push you to become a better person. Did you mean it?”

“I meant everything I said.” Ren’s voice was deep and raspy, kind of hoarse. 

_So infuriatingly sincere_. 

Goro awkwardly cleared his throat again. “That’s… good. To be honest, you hold a similar place in my life. You’re the one person I refuse to lose… lose to, I mean. So, I’d like it if you’d continue to be my rival.”

“For how long?”

“Until I defeat you, of course.” 

“That’s never going to happen,” Ren replied, eyes flashing, hands on his bare hips. 

And he called Goro a drama queen.

Goro smirked. It was exactly as he’d hoped. 

He tossed Ren his left glove from his pile of wet clothes. Ren caught it, eyes widening.

“There’s a tradition in the West to throw one’s glove at their opponent when demanding a duel. Should the opponent accept the glove, the duel is also accepted.” 

He looked askingly at Ren. 

“I accept.”

“Then make certain you never forget: I am the one who will defeat you. Hold on to that for me in the meantime, Amamiya.”

Ren absently slipped the glove on to his hand, flexing his fingers. They were still naked from the bath, wrapped in towels. The only thing Ren was wearing on his body right now was Goro’s glove. 

Goro’s breath caught in his chest, heart tripping over a few beats before it went crashing down the stairs. He liked it way too much. The idea of Ren in his clothes. In his gloves. In his blazer. In the argyle sweaters he teased Goro so mercilessly about. 

He bit his lip punishingly hard, forcing himself to focus. 

Ren was his best friend.

He quickly turned away and focused on getting dressed. Ren’s pajamas were comfortable and dry, soft from being worn many times.

He had just taken a hasty step towards the exit when Ren reached for his sleeve, stopping him. 

“Goro.”

Startled by his first name, he turned. Ren’s dove wing eyes pinned him firmly in place. 

“If I’m your rival, then you can never lose to anyone except me.”

Goro’s face heated like a supernova. His heart pounded right out of his chest, sending a surge of warmth down his limbs. He contorted his face into a scowl, crossing his arms tight. 

“As if there’s anyone else worth my time of day. I’m not easy, Amamiya. And I certainly won’t go easy on you. You better not be expecting any mercy.”

“Never,” Ren promised.

Goro swallowed, trying to moisten his dry throat. 

“Good.” 

*

The rain had slowed to a patter. As they walked back to the café, they stopped by the laundromat to put their muddy clothes for wash. It was stupidly domestic, Goro adding the soap and Ren inserting the coins and twisting the right buttons. The machine began purring like an overgrown cat, and Ren patted it twice, almost lovingly. They entered Leblanc, the rich, earthy smell of coffee beans permeating the air. 

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Ren asked. 

Goro shook his head. 

“I’ll heat us up some curry. Would you like some coffee?”

“I wouldn’t mind a latte,” Goro said hesitantly.

A minute later, a cup slid down the bar to him, a cat etched in the foam. It was marginally better than last time. It seemed Ren had worked on his technique.

“Where’s Morgana?” Goro asked after snapping a picture with his phone.

“He’s with Ann tonight. I wanted some privacy for your birthday celebration.”

Goro’s lips twitched in amusement. “He’s just a cat, Amamiya. I really wouldn’t have minded if he was here trying to trip me up.”

“I told him to stop that,” Ren said, exasperated.

“I don’t think he can understand you,” Goro pointed out. 

Ren rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. 

“He probably understands more than we think. He just prefers ignoring me when I scold him. Which is ridiculous because he expects me to obey whenever he scolds me.”

Goro raised an eyebrow. 

“You’ve made me curious. How exactly does _he_ scold you? And what does he scold you about?”

Ren passed Goro a bowl of curry and came to sit next to him. Their knees knocked together under the counter. 

“Morgana’s a nightmare around bedtime. If I’m on the phone or reading a book, he’ll literally bat it out of my hand. If I’m moving about Leblanc he’ll keep purring and clawing at me until I go to sleep.”

Goro winced. “I’m glad I don’t have a cat.”

“No no. I don’t think they're supposed to be like this,” Ren replied. 

“It certainly sounds strange. I guess I should be happy that someone is looking after you though.”

Ren scoffed. “I don’t need to be looked after.”

“I disagree,” Goro replied, sipping his hot drink.

Ren crossed his arms sulkily. Goro ignored him, hiding a smile. 

Since Ren finished eating first, he went across the street to switch their clothes to the dryer. He came back quickly, the rain drops in his hair twinkling in the colored lights of Leblanc.

After Goro scraped his bowl clean, they grabbed the lighter, the cake, and two spoons, retreating upstairs into the loft. Ren piled all the pillows and blankets on the floor and they spread out in the aerie. 

The cake was small, only meant for the two of them. Ren made an infinity sign with the candles. It was a childish tradition, but Goro couldn’t bring himself to protest.

“There’s no way 18 is going to fit on here without it being a fire hazard,” he observed.

“We’ll see,” Ren replied obstinately. 

“If you burn down Leblanc, I’m not sure Sojiro will manage to forgive you.”

“You don’t think we could put it out before it got to that point?” 

“Should I grab a water bucket?” 

“It’ll be fine,” Ren said. “There, it’s done.”

Contrary to Goro’s expectations, the cake, while overburdened, was a self contained disaster. Leblanc remained scorch-free another day. He blew out all eighteen candles while Ren sang to him. It was only slightly mortifying. They devoured the cake in spoonfuls. Familiar flavors exploded in Goro’s mouth—chocolate, coffee, amaretto, cream—and he closed his eyes to savor it. Perfection.

“Did you seriously make me tiramisu cake?” he asked, his heart fit to burst. 

Ren nodded, reaching for a spoonful decidedly on Goro’s half of the cake. He shot Goro a mischievous smile as he stuck the spoon in his mouth. _Wicked thief_. 

Goro committed premeditated vengeance via Ren’s last lady finger. Ren retaliated by scooping up the remainder of his mascarpone cream. 

“That’s it. You’re under arrest,” Goro snapped, reaching for a pillow. 

Ren gave as good as he got. His pillow combat skills had improved between their jousts. They eventually called a truce when they both ran out of breath, pounding fists to end the battle. Once they’d recovered, Ren sat up, his legs still slung over Goro’s torso.

“I’m going to put the cake platter in the sink and grab our clothes.”

 _I’ll come with you_ , Goro almost said out loud. He caught the words in the nick of time, turning over to hide his flushed face. 

Ren took the stairs down in threes but he was light on his feet. His footsteps were nearly indistinguishable from the dull clamor of rain in the background. The running water from the sink made a shushing sound, like a contrary librarian telling them to be quiet. Leblanc’s door chimed as it opened and shut and opened and shut again. 

He was back in less than five minutes, softly tackling Goro in greeting like an over affectionate cat. He was always gentle, even when they were rough-housing. Goro only tolerated it because any physical contact with Ren made his whole body light up like a cluster of stars.

 _Woah woah woah_. Goro blushed darkly. Ren had likely gone a little too heavy-handed with the amaretto liquor if these kinds of thoughts were popping up uninhibited. 

“Look, our clothes are warm from the dryer,” Ren said, adorably excited. He pressed a sock into Goro’s hand, and Goro clutched it awkwardly. The heat radiated pleasantly through his palm.

“I suppose now I can finally get dressed and go home,” he said. Ren rolled off of him, lying on his back, their shoulders pressed together.

“Oh. Um, the trains have actually stopped running already,” he said. “It’s past midnight.” 

“I see.” Goro half sat up and reached for his phone, hoping to hide his relief. He hadn’t wanted to go home yet; it had been a long time since he’d felt safe somewhere.

“You can stay here tonight,” Ren said. “I brought your presents up in case you wanted to open them.” Ren set the two wrapped packages between them. Goro eyed them unhappily. After the way he’d treated Ren, he hardly deserved any of this. 

Would Ren be upset if he refused them now? 

Goro glanced towards him. Ren’s eyes were glowing with muted enthusiasm. Goro read him easily: anticipating his reaction, but trying his best not to be too obvious about it.

“I might as well,” Goro reluctantly conceded. “Thank you.” 

He reached for the larger package first, though both were pretty small. The wrapping paper was brown and stamped with cat silhouettes. He carefully peeled away the tape to lift the folding. 

“I can’t believe you,” Ren said, fond and exasperated. “Just rip it open.”

Goro ignored him, sliding the gift out from the perfectly intact paper. It was a wooden checkered case with a little handle. Goro ran his hand along the side to find the latch and lifted it open. Tiny chess pieces carved from wood were embedded in blue velvet. A transportable set that would fit in his briefcase.

“I suppose I can take you on now at Jazz Jin,” Goro said wryly, admiring how intricately the knight was carved. 

“Any time,” Ren replied.

He turned to the other package. It was more cube shaped. He repeated the careful motions to undo the wrapping paper, disregarding Ren’s eye roll. A jewelry box, too large to hold any kind of ring. Not that it would have been anything like that anyway. He pulled the box open carefully, unveiling a silver cuff bangle. 

It was surprisingly lovely. Goro slipped it on immediately, admiring how it looked wrapped around his wrist. Simple, but sophisticated. He would have to revise his opinion that Ren lacked taste. Perhaps, he just fell short in personal awareness, easily remedied by some assistance, which he and Ann could provide. 

“I saw it and I thought you’d like it,” Ren explained shyly, the tips of his ears flushed pink.

“You thought right,” Goro said, hardly able to speak. He wished he was more articulate. Ren deserved a proper thank you, but Goro was overwrought. It was utterly exhausting, running through so many _feelings_ in such a short time span. 

He grabbed the wrapping paper and the chess set to tuck away safe in his briefcase, but left the bracelet on his wrist. It had already warmed up against his skin and its weight was comforting. 

He returned to the pile of blankets on the floor, moving a pillow to rest his head. Ren settled close to him, pulling the comforter up to cover them both. Goro stared at the bare wooden beams holding up the attic ceiling. The moonlight from the window made strange dappled shadows in the alcoves, and Ren was breathing next to him, barely audible, but here. 

It was peaceful, soft, and dark. Goro named it content. 

“Before coming to Tokyo, I spent a lot of my childhood being passed between foster homes and relatives that cared nothing for me. Most birthdays, I was happy if I was just left alone. I never saw it as something worthy of celebration.”

Ren turned towards him, close enough their foreheads were almost touching. His eyes were sad.

“I don’t say this for pity or as an excuse,” Goro explained, haltingly. “I just wanted to tell you.”

“I’ve never pitied you,” Ren said. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you were born. I’m glad we could meet and become friends. I’m glad you’re in my life.”

Goro’s heart stuttered in his chest and he suppressed the urge to punch Ren in the face. So stupid. How could he just say stuff like that?

How could he forget so quickly how Goro had treated him just hours earlier?

“Are you sure you want me in your life?” Goro asked bitterly. “What I said to you today—don’t pretend it didn’t hurt.”

“You didn’t mean it. I knew you didn’t as soon as I saw you again. It was written all over your face.” 

Goro flinched. “Your ability to read me is quite singular.” 

“What can I say? I’m your rival,” Ren teased.

 _Rival_. Goro’s heart flailed like a drowning man. He resisted the urge to pull the comforter over his face.

“Regardless, I never should have said any of it. I don’t think of you that way,” Goro confessed reluctantly. “I apologize.”

“What was that?” Ren said, half sitting up to face Goro more fully. “Could you say that again?”

“I apologize,” Goro muttered, jabbing Ren’s side. Ren pinched his cheek in retaliation before rolling on to his back, playfulness fading from his eyes. 

His expression went blank, and Goro’s nerves shifted to high gear.

“To be honest, that wasn’t what… what bothered me I guess. What bothered me was… well… when you cut off from me without saying anything—without a single word. I still can’t figure out why.” Ren’s voice broke off unsteadily and Goro dug his nails into his palms hard enough to bleed. 

“I’m not sure there’s a good answer for that,” Goro confessed.

“Oh...” Ren looped his fingers around his curls. “Are you going to do it again?”

“No,” Goro answered immediately. _I promise_.

Ren exhaled.

“Then we’re good. That’s all I need to know.” 

“Are you sure?”

Ren nodded and a weight slipped off Goro’s chest. He had the urge to pull Ren close, physical reassurance their relationship was intact, but he suppressed it. 

“Are you sleepy? Do you want me to play some Featherman reruns?” Ren asked, rubbing his eyes.

“No. I like the sound of the rain.”

“Mmkay.” Ren yawned. He shifted so his head was resting partly on Goro’s shoulder, raven curls brushing Goro’s jaw. Goro’s heart spun like a top. “Tell me if your arm falls asleep,” Ren murmured. His silver eyes fluttered closed gradually, the slow movement of butterfly wings.

Goro reached for his phone to occupy himself. Shido had texted him but Goro was in no mood to entertain him tonight. It was late enough that he could lie and say he had fallen asleep. He played with the bangle on his wrist and thought again about training Ren to help him take down his father.

It was frustrating to admit, but there just wasn’t enough time left. His plan would be enacted in just a few short months, and there was no way Ren could get strong enough for the shadows on the cruise ship. 

Most importantly, Shido couldn’t ever find out about Ren’s existence as another Persona user. Having Ren walk all over his subconscious didn’t seem like the best way to achieve that, as lovely as it would be to take down his father with Ren by his side. His knife-heeled Persona, Arsѐne, was still burned in Goro’s mind.

The constant ebb and flow of Ren’s breath brushing across his neck told Goro he was finally asleep. Goro shyly reached for his hand, wanting some point of contact between them. Their fingers interlaced, palms kissing. Goro would let go before falling asleep. He didn’t want to embarrass Ren.

Overall, it was probably the best birthday he’d ever had.

He turned back to his phone. Leblanc had no wifi so his options were limited. He reread his chat log with Ren, wincing over all the missed messages. Ren was committed in the strangest of ways. If somebody didn’t respond to Goro’s messages, he was pretty sure he would start actively ignoring them, both online and in real life. 

Goro sent Ren a chess match and began typing detailed replies to the debates Ren had tried to start. Ren’s dedication to him demanded proper return. It was difficult typing with only one hand, but Goro managed. 

By the time he hit send, he could hardly lift his limbs. Ren’s phone buzzed somewhere in the room. He drifted in and out of sleep uncontrollably, jolting back to consciousness in shortening stretches of time. His phone slipped out of his hand onto the blankets with a muffled thud. Goro reached for it in vain, his eyes sliding shut dissolving everything into darkness. 

*

*

*

Morgana’s claws stabbed into his thigh. 

Goro’s eyes blearily blinked open. He shifted, Ren’s curls tickling under his jaw. It wasn’t even light outside yet. He pushed the cat away with a groan and closed his eyes trying to fall back asleep. A vague thought flickered through Goro’s mind that he should move away before Ren woke up, but it was extinguished just as fast. 

He curled deeper into Ren’s warmth.

“Stop it!”

He must be only half-awake and pretty delirious because the voice sounded like it was coming from the cat. Ren made a soft confused sound in his sleep, stirring in Goro’s arms.

Goro shushed him soothingly, dragging him closer, already drifting back into unconsciousness.

A few more hours. He just wanted a few more hours.

Sleep slipped back over him like a wave, vision refracting into light particles that went out like sparks.

*

*

*

“Akechi.” 

Goro turned over, groaning. His muscles were sore as hell. 

“We have school soon. You have to wake up.”

Goro opened his eyes before immediately shutting them from the influx of light. He heard a familiar laugh, poorly muffled behind a hand. 

“C’mon. Sojiro will be here soon. I’m making breakfast.”

Goro stiffened. He was still in Leblanc. He had stayed over last night. His eyes flew open and he sat up. Ren was kneeling beside him, already dressed in his white turtleneck and suspenders. He hadn’t put on his fake glasses or blazer yet. 

“Good morning,” Ren greeted, smiling.

Goro flushed pink.

“Good morning,” he replied, his voice hoarse from sleep. He sounded like a chain smoker. Fantastic.

“I’ll let you get ready. I went to the supermarket when it opened and got you a toothbrush. You still have time to go home, though, if you need anything for school.”

“Everything’s here,” Goro replied, pushing the comforter off of him. The pile on the floor was mostly cleared away already. Goro took care of his pillow and the blankets he had been sleeping on.

His clothes were thoughtfully folded on top of the desk beside his briefcase. He grabbed everything he needed, before going downstairs to get ready in the bathroom. He glanced at his hair in the mirror in shock. Ren had seen him with one of the worst bedheads of his life. He ran his comb under the faucet before quickly fixing it up. None of his usual styling products were available, but it would do for today. His face was puffy from crying yesterday, so Goro pressed cold water under his eyes to reduce the swelling. It was Friday anyway. Only a half day tomorrow before the week was over. 

He opened the plastic package Ren had left on the counter and brushed his teeth with spearmint flavored toothpaste. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the brush afterwards, so he ended up leaving it beside Ren’s. He pulled his clothes on, folding Ren’s pajamas into a bundle. He moved the bangle to his left hand to compensate for his missing glove.

A mug of pour over coffee was waiting for him at the bar, milk and honey already added. _Heaven_. Ren was cooking something on the stove, wearing an apron to protect his uniform. 

“Where should I put your pajamas?”

“Here I’ll take them.”

Goro sat down at his usual place in the bar, taking another sip of his drink. Ren came back after a moment, returning to the stove. 

His phone was almost dead. Goro plugged it into the outlet under the countertop and held down the on button until it blinked back to life. It was around 6:45 AM. They had slept much too late in the night to wake up this early. Ren had already replied to his messages and continued their chess game. How long had he been awake? How was he not exhausted?

“I used an Instant Mix but I hope you still like them,” Ren said, sliding a plate of pancakes down to him. Goro was definitely being spoiled right now. He just couldn’t figure out why. 

“Can I help clean the kitchen?” Goro asked, voice still hoarse. He cleared his throat again. 

“No, it’ll only take a minute.” Afterwards, Ren settled on the bar stool next to Goro, drizzling honey over his own stack of pancakes. 

Morgana emerged from whatever region of Hell he had been hiding in. He saw Goro and began hissing. Little beast.

Ren sighed. 

“Leave Akechi alone, Morgana.” 

“You can use my first name when it’s just the two of us,” Goro corrected in a mumble.

“Then you should use my first name too.”

A tickle built up at the back of his nose. Goro rushed to cover his nose with his elbow before he sneezed. His throat itched.

Ren’s hands caressed his forehead, taking his temperature and feeling his sinuses. Goro did his best not to melt into the sensation. 

“No fever, but I’m pretty sure you’re in the early stages of a cold.” 

“Ridiculous,” Goro replied. “I haven’t been sick in years.” 

“Congratulations, your streak is broken,” Ren replied dryly. “I’m going to text my doctor to ask what to do.”

Goro raised an eyebrow. “In what universe can you casually text your doctor over breakfast?”

“She’s a local practitioner in Yongen-Jaya. I’m helping her out with her research so we exchanged numbers.” 

Goro narrowed his eyes suspiciously. _Research?_ “I didn’t know you were interested in medicine. How exactly are you helping her out?” 

Ren put down his phone, biting his lip. “Well, um, it’s kind of complicated.”

Goro’s investigative skills were tingling. “It’s nothing illegal right?”

“Why would you think that, detective?” Ren asked, poker-faced. Something was definitely up. “Anyway, she replied. She doesn’t have a cold preventing medication but she told you to drink orange juice and avoid overexerting yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, Ren.” 

Ren flushed pink when Goro said his first name, erratically shoving a pancake in his mouth. He was the one who had told Goro to use it in the first place. He had no business being so embarrassed. Regardless, there were no take backs. Goro wouldn’t allow it.

“Are we meeting at Jazz Jin tonight? If you need to rest, we could always postpone,” Ren offered once he had swallowed.

“No! I said I’m fine,” Goro hissed. 

Ren raised a suspicious eyebrow. 

“Okay, but text me if anything changes.”

Goro rolled his eyes before agreeing. He reached for Sojiiro’s red crossword book, and Ren leaned over his shoulder to assist. Since all the simple clues had been solved already, Ren was pretty much useless.

“Your ineptness at this astounds me,” Goro mocked, filling in another blank.

“That word had a double meaning,” Ren protested. “How was I supposed to know?”

“That’s the whole point of a crossword, you fool.”

Ren pouted, knocking his shoulder against Goro’s.

“You’re so mean to me.”

Goro knocked his shoulder back harder.

“You like it.”

Ren froze. For a second, Goro believed he’d accomplished the near unachievable task of flustering Ren into silence, but then:

“Yeah. Maybe I do.” Ren reached down to pick up Morgana, burying his face in his cat’s fur. Was he blushing? “I’m going to run outside to water the cats real quick. Do you want to come with me?”

Goro shook his head. “I think I’ll work on this crossword a little while longer. I’ll keep track of when we need to leave.”

Ren shrugged as if to say _suit yourself_ , before standing up to fill a broken pan in the kitchen with water and heading outside. He settled on the porch step leaving the door open. Within minutes he was surrounded. _They recognize one of their own_ , Goro privately thought, amusing himself. A tiny gray kitten made the perilous climb to rest on top of Ren’s curl-crowned head. Another cat, Snowdrop if Goro remembered correctly, had assumed a prime position in his lap. Morgana stared dolefully from the side. 

_Serves him right_. 

Sojiro arrived in front of the café exchanging a few words with Ren. Goro glanced at the time again. Leblanc opened late on Fridays, but Sojiro was even later than usual. Anxiety purled in Goro’s gut. Did he know? If not, what would he think when he saw Goro here so early in the morning? Nothing untoward had happened, but surely it was not typical for Ren to have people stay overnight? His milk crate bed was barely large enough for one. 

Morgana followed Sojiro in. 

“Good morning, sir,” Goro greeted, trying to re-summon his Detective Prince persona. 

“Good morning, kid. Have you eaten breakfast?” 

“Yes, Ren made me coffee and pancakes,” Goro said. “It was quite delicious. Your instruction is definitely paying off.”

“Did he tell you what he brewed?”

Goro shook his head.

Sojiro took a sip from the carafe on the other side of the counter. “Brazilian bourbon,” he observed. He took another sip. “He did a decent job with it today. Probably trying to impress you,” Sojiro said, shooting him a wry look. 

Goro flushed awkwardly at the comment, looking away.

Outside, Ren lifted the kitten from his head by its scruff, flurrying it with kisses before setting it down on his thigh. It pawed at him, and Ren booped its tiny nose. It mewled in surprise.

Goro’s heart somersaulted at the display. He hid his blushing face with his hands angrily. He was being attacked on all fronts this morning. 

The kitchen clattered as Sojiro started preparing for the day. Goro diligently returned to the crossword, but his focus was lost. He kept finding himself accidentally staring at Ren. 

“Hey, kid. Did you get 36 across yet? It’s been driving me up the wall.”

Goro glanced down to check. The words flustered him further. 

“Yes. It’s koi no yokan.” 

Sojiro gave him another look, probably wondering why Goro was acting like a fool. He avoided eye contact and checked the time on his phone. They should probably leave now. It was a bit early, but Goro would do anything to escape Sojiro’s scrutiny.

“We should be heading out. Thank you so much, sir.” 

He rinsed his cup in the sink. 

“You can leave it there,” Sojiro dismissed. 

“Thank you,” Goro repeated, rushing to collect Ren. 

He waited on the porch with his briefcase while Ren went inside to grab his school bag and blazer. He emerged in minutes, dusting cat hair off his clothes, glasses crooked across his nose bridge. Infuriatingly unkempt. Goro pulled the glasses off, fixing Ren’s hair quickly himself since Ren apparently did not own or know how to use a hairbrush.

Ren stared at him wide-eyed and flushed, and Goro smiled victoriously.

Ren caught him off guard too much for his liking. It was only fair that the favor be returned as often as possible. 

They walked down to the station together, shoulders bumping, making idle conversation. In the middle of their exchange, Ren’s black leather school bag emitted a strange sound.

“Ren, did your bag just meow?” Goro asked reluctantly. 

“Oh, that was Morgana,” Ren explained breezily. That was nothing to be so nonchalant about! The cat, hearing his name, rested his paws on Ren’s shoulder and peeked at Goro disapprovingly. 

“Are you seriously bringing your cat to school?” Goro hissed.

“Morgana’s very well-behaved,” Ren replied. 

Goro disagreed with that statement on a personal level.

“Have you done this before?!”

Ren shrugged sheepishly. That was definitely a yes.

“You have attachment issues, Ren,” Goro huffed. “It’s completely against the rules. You’re—”

His throat clenched up. Goro hacked into his elbow, and Ren rubbed his back until he stopped coughing. It took longer than expected. Frick, there was no way Ren was right. He refused to be sick.

“Don’t worry, Goro. I’ve been doing it since I first got Morgana. No one has ever noticed.”

That did not make him feel better in the slightest, but he was in no mood to argue about it right now. His body was killing him. 

“Are you okay?” Ren asked, tugging on his sleeve.

“When we get to the station, let’s stop to buy some painkillers. Your floor murdered me.”

Ren looked at him amused. “You’ve assumed the wrong role in this murder mystery, Goro. If the floor is the murderer and you are the victim, who’ll play the detective?”

“I suppose you will have to suffice in my stead,” Goro answered dryly.

“How could I possibly hope to match the Detective Prince? I guess I would want revenge against your murderer though,” Ren said thoughtfully. 

“If you truly want revenge, then you should rip up the flooring in your loft,” Goro suggested. 

“But then Sojiro would murder me and we’d both be victims. Who’d solve the crime then?”

“We would have to entrust it to Ann—rely on her relentless nature.”

Ren chuckled. “She’d take justice into her own hands.”

“I fear for both Sojiro and the flooring,” Goro concurred. What a nonsensical, pointless conversation. He and Ren fell into the absurd too often. 

Goro had missed this. Missed him.

The time came to part ways sooner than expected. Ren fussed over him for a whole minute, still convinced he was getting sick. Goro eventually pushed him away so he could catch his train on time, shoving Ren’s glasses back on to his face before he forgot.

“I’ll see you later, Ren.”

Ren waved his hand in response. Goro’s bangle jangled from his wrist as he waved back. 

The closing train doors swallowed Ren’s form.

They were literally just going to school for the day. There was no need for such an overdramatic goodbye. Goro was acting like a total fool. 

His phone buzzed.

> **Amamiya** : Have a good day, Goro. I hope you feel better. I’ll see you soon. <3

He wasn’t the only foolish one here. 

Heart spinning in his chest, he couldn’t hide his smile as he boarded his train. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry this chapter's a little late. I had to deal with a minor crisis this afternoon.
> 
> I hope y'all liked the chapter! They are basically dating at this point haha. I am very much a sucker for domestic boyfriends so this chapter took a bit of a fluffy turn after their argument resolved itself. This is, however, an important emotional turning point for Akechi. After 60,000 words, they are finally on first name basis haha. I am earning the slow burn tag.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments. I'm really grateful <3\. 
> 
> I would really appreciate any feedback you guys had to share! :-) If you have questions or anything, I love to talk about headcanons / characterization so ask away. You can also find me on twitter at @AbsenceofRoses. I retweet Shuake a lot.
> 
> DTW: References to suicidal thoughts on Akechi's part.
> 
> After chapter 10, things will get a little more plot heavy and canon divergence-y. Thus, I will be taking a few weeks off after chapter 10 to recharge and rebuild up my buffer. I will update my progress on twitter so everyone knows when I'll be back. Low key, writing 7k+ chapters and editing them the same week has been kind of hard. I'm so excited for major plot and relationship developments after chapter 10 though so please look forward to it.
> 
> EDIT: Changed Ren's school bag to black since I am a dumb dumb and forgot what it looked like for a hot minute. Thanks to lady_peony <3!
> 
> Gentle Madman's Phantom (@ToonSkyGuardian) made a stunning piece for the sleeping scene this chapter. Please look at it here: [CROPPED](https://twitter.com/ToonSkyGuardian/status/1359737734705872900?s=20) and [FULL LENGTH](https://twitter.com/ToonSkyGuardian/status/1359854606092763136?s=20)


	10. o rose thou art sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro falls ill and Ren decides to take care of him.

By the end of the day, Goro had to fold. His body sank under him like an anchor while his head floated like a beach ball above the waves.

He didn’t want to miss out on meeting Ren. He knew it was childish; he had literally spent all of yesterday evening and this morning with him. But, as Shido’s and his own plan came closer and closer to fruition, he would have less and less time to spend with him. 

Perhaps, a compromise.

> **Goro** : I find myself somewhat overtaxed by the school day. Could we meet at my apartment instead? 
> 
> **Ren** : Maybe you should see a doctor.
> 
> **Goro** : I’m fine. Just tired. Yes or no?
> 
> **Ren** : Yes, of course. I don’t know where you live though. 
> 
> **Goro** : Meet me at Station Square in an hour and I’ll take you there. I need to finish up some work today before we meet.
> 
> **Ren** : Don’t overdo it.
> 
> **Goro** : While I appreciate your concern, it is quite unnecessary. I have been taking care of myself for years. 
> 
> **Ren** : I know. I still worry, honey.

Goro’s cheeks went bright scarlet, which was difficult to achieve considering his skin was already flushed. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say in reply so he didn’t. Ren was insufferable. How was he like this?

The hour passed by too slowly, and Goro’s head reeled like a top. It was fortunate he was just doing paperwork. He wouldn’t be able to sit through an interview in this state. 

“Akechi, are you listening?” 

He looked up at Sae, her form shifting like it was at the other end of a dark tunnel.

“You don’t look too well,” she observed dryly. 

His lips contorted up. “I’m fine. I apologize for daydreaming. What were you saying?”

“We have a meeting on Tuesday with the SID director on the mental shutdown case at 10:30.”

“I’ll mark it in my agenda,” Goro said, scribbling down the information on a sticky note. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to discuss some details of the case tonight, but I think you should go home and get some rest. I’ll email you over the weekend.” 

“I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Sae shook her head dismissively and walked off. 

Goro emailed his report to the director, completing the last of his work for the week. It was still too soon to go meet Ren. He made the next move in their chess game, finding it hard to focus despite his best efforts. Playing over the phone was nowhere close to as fun as playing in person. There was no stoic expression to decipher along with each move. His phone buzzed.

> **Ann** : Ren just told me it was your birthday yesterday. Happy belated birthday!
> 
> **Akechi** : Thank you.
> 
> **Ann** : Also, he says you’re sick? 

Goro rolled his eyes. Of course Ren was fretting. 

> **Akechi** : I’m just feeling a little under the weather. If I rest up this weekend I’ll be fine.
> 
> **Ann** : Oof. That sucks. :-( 
> 
> **Akechi** : It does.
> 
> **Ann** : You wanna get ice cream next week for your bday? It’ll be my treat :-) I know a great place we could check out. 

Goro hesitated. 

> **Akechi** : I’m not sure of my schedule. Can I let you know a little later?
> 
> **Ann** : Yeah, sure! I hope you get better soon, Akechi!

She was enthusiastic as always, her words radiating cheerfulness like a radioactive substance.

> **Akechi** : I’m sure my immune system is doing its best. 

* * *

Ren was early. 

He waited on the bench, watching an old man feed pigeons. The wooden box Yoshida used as an impromptu stage on Sundays was still placed in its corner, and some kids were playing on it while their parents conversed nearby. Morgana had gone with Ann after school. The not-a-cat knew the way to Leblanc if he wanted to go home.

Ren wondered if it was time to tell Akechi about the Phantom Thieves. The closer they got, the worse keeping a secret like that felt. If he could convince the detective they were just, maybe Akechi would even consider joining them. He would be an amazing asset to the team.

The thought of fighting alongside him again sent a jolt of heat straight up Ren’s spine. There was something so exhilarating about seeing that side of Akechi set loose. 

It would probably have to be a trade off. The Phantom Thieves could help find the perpetrator of the mental shutdowns and Akechi could maybe refrain from arresting them? or even stay with them? 

Guitar music drifted across from the other side of the square along with a familiar voice. Ren’s eyes whipped across the plaza searchingly.

Akechi was talking to the guitar man. He was learning how to play acoustic, Ren remembered. He stood up and approached them hesitantly, hoping he wouldn’t interrupt the conversation. He waited nearby and stuck his hands in his pockets. Akechi’s glove brushed against his right hand reassuringly. 

“Thank you for the advice,” Akechi said to the musician. His voice was still hoarse.

“Good luck, dude!” the guitar man replied, playing a farewell riff. 

Akechi turned, swaying tiredly. His eyes were unfocused and bleary, but they still widened when he caught sight of Ren.

“Ah, there you are,” he greeted. “Let’s go home.”

Ren nodded, heart tripping over the last phrase. Did Akechi even realize how that had sounded? 

He followed close as Akechi led the way. They crossed through the place they had first met and the bubble tea shop they had talked in afterwards. Ren’s gaze lingered, thinking of their encounter with fondness.

“Pay attention,” Akechi scolded, grabbing Ren’s hand to drag him forward. The walk signal had turned green already. Akechi’s bare left palm burned against his. He was still wearing the silver bangle. It suited him.

They were holding hands for the second time today. Ren’s face heated as he remembered the first time, early morning before Akechi had woken up. Their bodies had entwined in their sleep. 

Akechi let go as soon as they made it across the black asphalt. It would probably be bad for his reputation if he was caught holding hands with anyone. Part of the allure of young celebrities was that they were single, after all. Ren shoved his hand back into his pocket, moving forward to walk alongside the detective. Their shoulders knocked together accidentally.

“If I was paying attention that day, we would have never met,” Ren commented idly. 

Akechi glanced at him with narrowed eyes. 

“I’m not so sure,” he disagreed. “I think we would have ended up running into each other one way or another.” An unexpected answer from the pragmatic detective. Ren loved it when Akechi surprised him.

“Oh, really? You’ve asked me before if I believed in fate. But, what about you, detective?”

Akechi smirked. Ren’s face heated up from the expression. 

“The simple answer is yes.” He paused, yanking Ren to the side so a larger group could pass. “In fact, I would go so far as to say I’m devout.” His face was so close, Ren could see the slight sheen of sweat tinge across his brow. He was flushed from fever; Ren’s gaze inadvertently trailed down.

Akechi’s lips were pink and glossy. He probably used chapstick. Ren licked his own lips self-consciously, knowing they were chapped. Akechi’s eyes were drawn to the movement and Ren turned his face, his heart pounding dangerously fast. 

“I thought you’d be on the free will end of the spectrum, Goro.”

“Who’s to say the two are mutually exclusive?” Akechi asked. “Some events in my life, my mother’s passing, moving here, finding the Metaverse, even meeting you—to me, these are unalterable moments in my destiny. But, what I choose to do about them and in between and after them; what I choose to feel; that’s all mine.” 

Akechi’s eyes pierced through him, intense.

Ren’s breath got caught in his throat.

They continued walking. Akechi’s footsteps were unsteady, and Ren’s arms made half-aborted motions towards him every time he stumbled. Maybe Ren should have dragged him to Takemi’s clinic after all. 

They arrived at Akechi’s apartment building and greeted the security guard posted inside the entrance. Akechi lived on the fifth floor, so they took the elevator up and walked down a short hallway lined with a garishly patterned carpet. It smelled like moth balls. 

The second to last door on the left was Akechi’s place. Akechi pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door imprinted in gold numbering, 506. They toed off their shoes in the front hallway and stepped inside. 

The apartment was studio-style, the kitchen, living room, and dining area all running into each other. Light drifted in from a large window that spanned the back wall, where the bed was curtailed off with some cleverly placed shelving and a black curtain. Akechi’s guitar was in a case leaning against a mirror on the wall, and there were stacks of books everywhere, practically falling off the shelves. Ren spotted the detective novel he’d gotten Akechi on the nightstand, a blue post-it note accompanying the red one.

The detective shot him an amused look. “Are you done gaping at everything?” 

Ren shrugged unapologetically. “I’m curious about you.” 

“I’m afraid it’s nothing as exciting as a loft above a coffee shop. It’s just a convenient place to come back to when I’m tired.” 

Akechi grabbed a hair band from the drawer, tying a ponytail. With his hair pulled back, the sunlight from the window fell on the sharper lines of his face, giving him a cold, almost ethereal beauty. It was a far cry from the soft, charming Detective Prince. Ren’s heart thrummed in his chest. 

They settled next to each other on the couch. Ren pulled out his notes and tucked a leg up beside him, while Akechi began studiously writing up a history assignment, even though his eyes were drooping. He coughed tiredly into his elbow, and something fierce surged up in Ren.

Was Akechi's fever going up? Did he have cold medication at home?

“I can hear you thinking,” Akechi complained, turning to frown at him. 

Ren sighed, leaning back. “Are you feeling okay?”

Akechi scowled. “Stop repeating the same inane question, Amamiya. You’re being annoying.”

Ren rolled his eyes, returning to his notes. _Stubborn asshole_.

*

An hour later, Goro was sound asleep on Ren’s shoulder. Some strands of chestnut hair had come out of his ponytail making him look endearingly disheveled. 

His forehead was hot against Ren’s neck. Did Akechi have a thermometer? Even if he did, it wasn’t like Ren could just go snooping through his things to find it.

Ren turned and gently rested his forehead against Akechi’s, checking for fever. 

He was totally burning up. Ren gnawed at his lip, frustrated. The detective lived alone, so there wasn’t anyone here to take care of him. 

Ren paused. 

Well, actually, that wasn’t quite true.

He stood up slowly, shifting Akechi so he was lying on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and tucked it over his friend, unable to resist the urge to tousle Akechi’s silky hair.

He wouldn’t be gone for too long, but just in case… 

He grabbed a post-it note and scribbled a brief message, sticking it on to Akechi’s sweaty forehead. 

* * *

Goro’s head was rippling from pain and heat. He couldn’t move his limbs. He opened his eyes reluctantly and found he was sleeping on the couch, a blanket placed over him. Ren’s work, no doubt. Goro flushed. 

What time was it? He reached for his phone and sneezed. It was late, so Ren had probably returned to Leblanc already. 

He hadn’t been sick in so long. He might have some cold medication in his first aid kit, but he was too tired to get up and check. Maybe, if he just slept through the next few days he’d recover automatically?

The lock made a metallic scraping sound. 

Goro shot up in a panic. 

He thought he’d have at least until the election before Shido sent someone. _Stupid_. It was dangerous to assume anything when it came to _him_. Goro needed something to defend himself with now. There was no time to grab the gun.

Perhaps if he used the table as a barricade. Goro sat up frantically.

Strange. All of Ren’s papers were still spread out on it, and his black school bag leaned primly against the side of the couch. There was a small red square of paper on the floor. Goro picked it up and scanned it. 

His heart instantly slowed. 

Along with a brief message saying he’d be back soon, Ren had doodled him a little cat. Goro deemed it was worthy of a place in his planner. He stuck the note inside. 

The door swung open. Ren was carrying two armfuls of grocery bags which he set down on the floor.

“Honey, I’m home,” Ren teased, seeing him awake. 

Goro’s heart cartwheeled at the greeting. 

“You’re back awfully late,” he teased back, hoping Ren wouldn’t notice the tremble in his voice. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I’ve brought reinforcements,” Ren declared.

“What?” Goro asked. His insides tickled like someone was running a feather duster through his lungs. He coughed into his elbow. 

Ren searched through the bags. Once he’d found whatever he was looking for, he approached Goro, pushing all the papers away to sit directly opposite him on the table. _Too close_. 

“I’m going to take your temperature,” Ren warned before sticking a thermometer in his mouth. While the thermometer did its job, Ren reached for a fever cooling patch, sticking it on to Goro’s forehead. The coolness melted over his hot skin like an ice cube. Instant relief.

“I’m not five,” Goro complained. 

“If you open your mouth the thermometer’s reading will be off,” Ren scolded. 

The nerve of him. Goro glared disapprovingly. 

_Beep. Beep_. The thermometer was promptly pulled out of his mouth. Ren frowned at the numbers.

“Well?” Goro asked.

“It’s pretty high,” Ren answered, tilting the device to show Goro the reading before rising to go rinse it off. Goro blinked tiredly, pulling the blanket closer around him. If only he hadn’t reacted so dramatically yesterday: storming off into the rain like some kind of emotionally constipated pre-teen. 

_Maybe I would’ve gotten sick anyways_ , Goro consoled himself. He’d been feeling off all week. 

Ren came back with a handful of medication. 

“Pick your poison,” he instructed, organizing them for Goro’s perusal. Goro wrinkled his nose at the wording, grabbing the cold medication he was most familiar with. 

“I need some water,” he awkwardly requested. Ren swiftly stood up, heading to the kitchen. He looked through the cabinets until he found the glasses, filling one up and setting it down in front of Goro.

“Maybe you should take some cough syrup too?” 

Goro grudgingly reached for the bottle of bitter, cherry-flavored liquid, pouring it into the little plastic measuring cup. 

“Not a fan?” Ren asked curiously.

“I’ve hated it since I was a kid,” Goro explained, downing the recommended dose like a shot. He coughed as it slid down his throat. Absolutely disgusting. 

Ren was giving him a stupid fond look like he found his antics endearing.

“What are you doing?” Goro asked him grumpily.

“I thought I’d look after you for a bit.”

“Unnecessary,” Goro rejected immediately.

Ren smirked at him, terrible as always. 

“I know. I just felt like it. I’m going to put the groceries away.”

Goro pulled the blanket over his head. Ren had caught him in another vulnerable moment. It was becoming a trend. 

Goro despised it. Yeah sure, Ren just happened to be his friend, whatever; but he was also Goro’s rival and Goro refused to be a snivelling mess in front of him a moment longer. It was unsightly.

Ren tossed him a tissue box a few seconds before Goro sneezed, like he was freaking telepathic. _I hate you_ , Goro thought dishonestly, clearing his nasal passages as un-trumpet-like as possible. 

“I assure you, while I appreciate you acquiring medication for me, you don’t need to stay and expose yourself to my germs. I’m quite comfortable managing myself.” 

“If I was going to get sick from the same thing that got you, it would have already happened,” Ren said nonchalantly, fiddling with something on the stove. 

Goro made a frustrated sound. With his sore throat, he accidentally achieved the same tenor as a velociraptor call. Ren thankfully didn’t notice, grating ginger into a pot of water on the stove, adding honey and stirring. Ren must have bought the ingredients because Goro was sure he didn’t own half of those things. He rose from the sofa curiously bringing the blanket along with him.

Ren looked up at him, chuckling. 

“What?” Goro grumbled, elbowing Ren in the ribs from under the blanket. 

“You look like a low budget Halloween ghost,” Ren explained breathlessly.

Goro elbowed Ren harder as punishment, then pulled the blanket aside so it was no longer covering his head.

“Your excitement about me being a ghost reflects rather poorly on you,” Goro reproached, miffed.

“If you were a ghost, would you haunt me?” 

Goro looked at Ren incredulously. Ren stared back at him, unabashed. He asked the stupidest questions.

“Well, if I had nothing better to do,” Goro answered reluctantly. Ren smiled like an idiot.

Stirring the boiling mixture one more time, he carefully poured the drink into a mug and handed it to Goro. 

“Did you make me shogayu?” Goro asked wonderingly, inhaling the hot steam. 

“It’s good for your throat,” Ren replied. 

Goro waited for it to cool before sipping it slowly, closing his eyes. The fresh ginger gratings tasted tangy on his tongue. As the hot liquid ran down the back of his throat, the soreness there began dissipating. He drank the rest of the tea, leaning his weak body on the island.

“Have you eaten dinner?” Ren asked, rinsing the pot in the sink. A tiny puff of steam rose as the water hit the cooled metal. Residual heat. 

“What is it with you and your obsession with feeding me?” Goro grumbled, hiding his face in the mug. He had already finished the glass but he pretended to drink the last of it again.

“Sorry not sorry,” Ren said unapologetically. “So have you?”

“I have not.” 

“You have a fancy blender. Maybe we could make a smoothie? It’ll be light for your stomach,” Ren reached into one of the grocery bags for a carton of strawberries and orange juice. 

“That should be adequate,” Goro agreed. “I have bananas and coconut water in the fridge.” They washed their hands and began preparing the fruits. Ren tried to send him to the couch to rest, but Goro shot him down. He wasn’t going to sit back and let Ren do everything for him in his own apartment.

Ren washed and chopped the strawberries into heart shaped halves while Goro started pouring the orange juice and coconut water into the blender. Ren popped a handful of strawberries into his mouth. 

“Don’t eat the ingredients,” Goro reprimanded distractedly, drawn to the red juice staining Ren’s lips. Ren rolled his eyes and grabbed more berries from the box to make up for the ones he’d eaten. 

Goro looked through the groceries Ren had bought. “We should add some spinach too.” 

Ren made a face. 

“We won’t be able to taste it,” Goro informed him unsympathetically, washing the greens at the sink. 

“Yeah, but we’ll know it’s there.”

“Get over it.” 

Ren pouted, strawberry juice still staining his lips. Inappropriate thoughts danced through Goro’s mind. He distracted himself with chopping the greens.

They threw everything in and sealed the blender. Ren held down the button and Goro grabbed the remote from under the coffee table to turn on the TV. They could watch old Featherman R reruns. He blew his congested nose and dragged the trash bin closer so he wouldn’t have to get up from the couch to throw his tissues away. 

Ren had bought hand sanitizer and cough drops, so Goro rubbed his hands clean and slipped a strawberry lemon drop in his mouth. Every cough drop had the same underlying taste, which all the sugar and artificial flavoring in the world couldn’t disguise. He snapped the hard disk into shards with his teeth to speed the dissolving process.

After the blender quieted, Ren came over and sat next to him, handing him a glass of their smoothie. Goro took a sip and realized he couldn’t taste anything. Wonderful. Ren set his own glass down on the table, curling up with his phone. Goro reached for his device too.

“The trains are about to stop running,” he realized, checking the time. 

Ren jerked up, grabbing his papers off the table and shoving them into his school bag. “I lost track of time,” he mumbled, zipping up the bag in a hurry. He stood up, looking for his blazer. Goro was pretty sure it was under his blanket, but he decided not to enlighten Ren of this fact. 

“Sit back down. You’re not going to make it,” Goro ordered. “You can just take the couch tonight.”

Ren frowned. “I didn’t mean to invite myself over.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he informed the other boy, trying to give off an air of nonchalance when really an absurd excitement was swirling up in him. How childish—to be delighted at the prospect of another sleepover. 

Ren collapsed onto the couch beside him, resuming his previous position with his phone. Their legs were touching.

“I’ll ask Ann to look after Morgana again,” he said, already typing.

Goro absently watched the Rangers battle another weak enemy trash. Season 3 was when the going got tough, especially once Black Condor left the team, only returning at the end of the season as Gray Pigeon. Ren tugged his sleeve.

“Ann has to do her makeup for a daytime shoot tomorrow, and Mika’s going to be there. What do you think, one or two?” Ren asked, turning the phone around so he could see. 

Goro analyzed the two photos carefully, flipping back and forth.

“Does she know what she’ll be wearing?” Goro asked with a yawn. The medication was starting to kick in and everything had gone a little soft, blurring like watercolors.

“Not yet.”

“Hmm, tell her one is more suitable for the day time look and more conducive for a wider range of outfit choices.”

“But if Ann is put in pastels or a lighter color, two would look so much better,” Ren disagreed.

“Yes, but there’s no guarantee,” Goro argued. “If she’s put in a darker outfit, it would look gaudy.”

“Hmm. I’ll tell her you think one, but I recommend bringing the gold eyeshadow so if she’s put in a lighter color she can add it on set,” Ren compromised, his fingers flying. 

They floated in a pool of warm silence, Ren a soothing presence beside him, like a lozenge or something. Goro watched the show with dazed eyes, feeling more exhausted than he did after a trip to the Metaverse. He blinked, realizing everything had gone sideways. Oh, his head was on Ren’s knee. He was too tired to freak out about it, eyes already drifting shut. Ren fell asleep on him all the time. It was only fair that he returned the favor once in a while. Ren’s hands were gently running through his hair and Goro hoped he wouldn’t stop.

They were best friends. This was very normal. 

In what felt like no time at all, Goro drifted off.

*

*

*

_“Go back to sleep, Goro.”_

_Ren had, for some god-forsaken reason, decided to check his temperature in the middle of the night and replace the cooling patch on his forehead._

_“I had a reason,” Ren disagreed, his form soft and fuzzy in the darkness. “You were restless. I thought your fever went up again and I was right.”_

_Goro’s nightmare flashed back to mind. Crimson dripping down the side of the tub. He gasped._

_“Don’t move the curtain,” he ordered Ren breathlessly, the image looping and shifting in and out of reality like static. “I don’t want to see it again.”_

_Ren brushed the tears from his face. His fingers were so light, Goro was sure he’d imagined it. He knew he wasn’t imagining Ren’s arms around him though. Or, maybe he was imagining everything?_

_“It was a dream,” Ren said, his voice floating like it was underwater. Goro didn’t know how long they spent like that, but the taste of iron in his mouth faded away. Ren smelled good. Like coffee??_

_“I live in a café,” Ren explained dryly. “My room is filled with bags of coffee beans.”_

_Goro knew that. Ren was so patronizing._

_Ren laughed. “Oh, you think_ I’m _patronizing?”_

_He’d brought more medication with him. Goro swallowed the pills and the gross cherry-flavored syrup, complaining the whole time. Ren tousled his sweaty hair, sighing. Goro had just started getting into the dangers of cough syrup abuse and the risk of overdosing, which he’d seen first hand as a detective, when Ren interrupted his rant, clearing his throat._

_“Okay, I got it. Cough syrup is a dangerous dirty drug. Can we go back to sleep now, babe?”_

_“Don’t tell me what to do,” Goro snapped, flushing at Ren calling him ‘babe.’ Somehow he was in his pajamas. He yanked at his shirt and realized it was his old Feathermen tee._

_Did Ren like it? It had all the Feathermens on it._

_“I do like your shirt,” Ren answered._

_Goro blushed._

_“Why are you in my apartment?”_

_“I stayed to look after you cause you got sick, remember?”_

_“I’m not sick.”_

_“Yes. You are.”_

_“I’m not.”_

_“You are.”_

_“Who says?”_

_Ren laughed. “I really didn’t mean to wake you, Goro. I’m going back to the couch.”_

_Goro reached for Ren’s wrist in a panic._

_No._

_“No?” Ren asked._

_“No. I’m older than you, so you have to do as I say.”_

_“I don’t know if that’s how it works, honey,” Ren teased._

_“It_ is _,” Goro hissed, refusing to relent his hold on Ren’s wrist._

_Ren laughed. “Okay. Just until you fall asleep,” he agreed, moving so he was lying on his side._

_Goro exhaled in relief, coughing into the pillow when his chest tightened. Ren rubbed his back with his other hand, and Goro melted into the sensation, his other hand still clutching Ren's wrist. Ren’s pulse fluttered against his fingertips._

Ren _. Something tumble-swooped inside of him like a flock of doves swirling up his chest._

_Goro buried his face in his pillow and sneezed._

_“I can’t believe you get loopy on cold medication. You’re probably a lightweight,” Ren informed him._

_“I’m not.”_

_“You are.”_

_Goro pinched Ren’s cheek in punishment. Ren laughed again and Goro wanted to hold him._

_His eyes were covered with a cool palm._

_“Go to sleep, silly,” Ren said, voice dissolving like a sandcastle on the beach. The waves ebbed forward and crashed, Goro grasping at Ren like driftwood as they were tossed into the sea._

*

*

*

Goro’s eyes flicked open, light rushing in from his window. His body hurt a little less than it had yesterday, but he was still exhausted. He sat up, pushing the curtain aside, then pulled it back just as quickly. 

Ren had stayed over yesterday. Ren was in his kitchen right now. 

Flustered, Goro laid back in bed. His memories from last night were blurry but he was pretty sure there had been some clinging involved. Ugh, he hated himself sometimes. Especially the drugged up version of himself Amamiya was no doubt going to tease him mercilessly for. 

He stared down in horror. He was wearing his old faded Feathermen shirt. He’d had no intention of ever showing it to anyone. How mortifying. He retied his messy ponytail and tried to calm down. After a few minutes, he swung his legs out of bed and pushed up. Blood rushed to his head and Goro instantly wanted to sit back down. He moved the curtain aside instead, emerging into the living room. 

“Good morning,” Ren greeted.

“Good morning,” Goro mumbled, ducking into the bathroom. 

Fifteen minutes later, he had put himself together somewhat. The dreaded Feathermen pajama tee was safely buried in his laundry basket. He peeled the fever cooling patch off his forehead and pitched it.

Ren had placed another steaming cup of shogayu on the kitchen island for him along with his medication. Goro picked up the ginger tea first, inhaling the steam. He took his medication fast, washing down the taste with the drink. He skipped the cough syrup to spare himself any more drug-induced loopiness.

Ren was stirring something on the stove. Goro analyzed the remnants of the ingredients on the counter and deduced that he was making okayu with sweet potatoes. Another staple dish of the ill. It was embarrassing how out of his way Ren was going for him. Interrogating him on his motives would likely just unearth another mortifying confession of regard. _Sentimental fool_.

“Do you want to do a movie marathon today?” Ren asked.

“Don’t you have school?” Goro asked, scowling. He himself had to call in sick. He couldn’t go anywhere like this.

“It’s Saturday so it’s a half day. I can be back in a few hours if you want,” Ren said.

Goro bristled. “I don’t need a babysitter, Amamiya. I’ll be fine. It’s just a pathetic cold.”

Ren scoffed, stirring the porridge. “Who says I’m babysitting?” he asked coldly. “You missed watching the last two Feathermen episodes with me. I thought we could at least catch up with the season, even if you don’t want to watch something else.”

 _Ren wasn’t over it,_ Goro realized with a start. He was still upset about Goro going AWOL for two weeks. And maybe that should have made Goro feel guilty or something, but all he could think was that he’d finally endeared himself to another human being enough that his absence hurt. A cloud of euphoria swept him up. He hid his smile in his cup of tea.

“Whatever. You can take the key.”

Ren hesitated. “If you need space, you can tell me to shove off.”

“I already said you can take the key, Ren.”

Ren bit his lip. “Okay. By the way, I borrowed a set of your pajamas last night. I knew I wouldn’t have time to stop by Leblanc and I didn’t want to sleep in my school uniform so…”

“It’s fine,” Goro said, internally regretting that Ren had gotten up before him. 

Ren ladled the porridge into a bowl, topping it with umeboshi and handing it over. 

“How do you know how to do all this?” Goro asked, gesturing at the porridge and the tea.

Ren shrugged. “I get sick at least once a year. My parents are usually travelling, so I’ve picked up on a few things,” he answered, serving himself porridge.

In some ways, they’d both been on their own growing up.

Goro took a small spoonful, chewing experimentally. The texture and heat was comforting. He inhaled it down, even though he still couldn’t taste anything. 

As he ate, he emailed his teachers about missing class. Luckily, there was already a system in place for when he had to miss school because of work. As he cleared his inbox, Ren told him about some counsellor named Maruki and school-mandated therapy.

“...so he gave me some readings about Jung and we discussed his paper. He called me his research assistant, but I’m really not sure how much I’m helping. I mostly just listen to him and tell him what I think he needs to hear,” Ren said.

Goro paused, looking up from his laptop. “So you’re counselling your counsellor?” 

Ren shrugged. “Not exactly. We just found something that works better for us. I don’t really think I need therapy.”

Goro hummed disapprovingly. It wasn’t his place to disagree. And Ren spoke of this school counsellor fondly, but Goro had his doubts. Something wasn’t ringing right.

Perhaps Goro was biased.

Counselling reminded him of the the time he’d stayed in the boy’s home right after his mother’s death. Someone would come once a week to listen to all of them and frown, taking notes on a yellow legal pad. Goro had spoken about his mother until he got sick of the pity in their eyes.

His mother. The vestiges of his nightmare shifted uneasily like a sunken shipwreck in the back of his mind. He had dreamed of her last night again. He cleared his throat to get Ren’s attention.

“So, did I say anything _off_ last night?” 

Ren half turned towards him before turning back to his porridge. 

“You were pretty out of it.”

“I woke you up though, didn’t I? How?”

Ren bit his lip, not looking up from his porridge. “You were calling for your mother.”

It was expected. 

“You don’t have to—” 

“It’s okay,” Goro interrupted. He paused, focusing on a point past Amamiya’s left shoulder. “She…took her life when I was young. I was the one who found her body,” he explained. The image flashed like a reflection off glass. “The pressure of raising me alone was too much for her. If only my bastard of a father had done something to support her, she might still be alive today. I…I think about her all the time.” 

Ren didn’t say anything in response—didn’t try to console him or apologize or tell him how strong he was or any of that bullshit. He just laid his hand on top of Goro’s, interlacing their fingers. 

They sat together, and it was enough.

After breakfast, Ren headed off to Shujin and Goro texted Shido to inform him that he’d fallen ill and wouldn’t be able to take any assignments this weekend. He didn’t get a reply, but the message was marked read. Ann texted him a little later in the day.

> **Ann** : Are you feeling better today? 
> 
> **Akechi** : I am. Thanks for your concern.
> 
> **Ann** : I told Ren I could take Morgana again tonight if you needed another day with your attentive nurse ;-)
> 
> **Akechi** : It wouldn’t hurt.

Goro wanted to bang his head on the table. He had replied without thinking. He really hoped Ann didn’t show Ren his message. 

> **Ann** : Haha, well I’ll let him know. 

Fuck. 

He spent the rest of the morning occupying himself with school work and replying to Sae’s emails about the shutdowns. He was productive and alert, despite his cold. Damn medication finally doing its work. 

Ren returned right after lunch, calling out, “Honey, I’m home,” again when he returned.

“Welcome back, darling,” Goro replied, as saccharine as possible. Ren stared at him wide-eyed until Goro began feeling self-conscious.

They made hot chocolate on the stove like his mother used to and settled in front of his TV. Ren had brought a bunch of Studio Ghibli films from the video rental place on Central Street. They watched the recorded Feathermen episodes first and Goro was glad to see the end of the stupid Undertaker time travel arc. In the new arc, Red Hawk and Black Condor were stranded together on an island and everyone knew they had the best partner dynamic of all the Rangers.

Goro rolled his eyes as Ren gushed about Black Condor. He’d figured out after several evenings spent watching Feathermen at Leblanc that Ren had a crush on Black Condor the astronomical size of the sun. God knows why. It was pointless to be jealous of a fictional character, which is why Goro indulged Ren with only minor irritation. He wondered if he himself sounded anything like this when talking about Red Hawk. Ugh, he suspected he did. 

Their movie marathon began with _Howl’s Moving Castle._ They shared a blanket, settling close to each other because the couch was small.

“Look, it’s you,” Ren whispered, nudging him when the main character became an old lady. “She’s even wearing blue.”

Goro elbowed him until he wheezed. 

“Oh, look, it’s you,” he told Ren sweetly when Howl appeared in his castle. 

Ren stared at him in horror. “Can I be the fire demon instead?” 

Goro smiled with his teeth. “No, that’s Morgana.” 

After _Howl’s Moving Castle_ , they put on _Spirited Away_. Ren cried into his shoulder whenever things got remotely sad, and Goro’s shirt was damp with his tears. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tease Ren for being soft when he had to brush away the moisture from his own eyes every so often. Maudlin displays of feelings aside, they kept up a constant exchange throughout their marathon, assigning ridiculous characters to each other and debating scenes and their meaning. It was nice to take a break like this once in a while. 

Goro’s fever spiked up again by the evening, so Ren decided to stay another night. He ran back to Leblanc before the trains stopped to grab some clothes. He returned with a large tupperware container of curry and a smaller container of rice from Sojiro.

“Is it okay if I use your shower tonight,” Ren asked, ladling the curry onto a plate. 

Goro’s brain short circuited even though he and Ren had taken baths together before. He coughed to buy time. 

“That should be fine,” he finally said, reaching for another dose of cold medication.

After dinner, Ren emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, smelling like Goro’s bath soap. He climbed onto the couch and mirrored Goro’s posture, casually hooking their ankles together. Goro ignored how his legs tingled from the contact.

“It’s been so long since I’ve taken a real shower. Usually I have to go to the bathhouse,” Ren confessed, wet curls pressed to his forehead like question marks. Goro had the strangest urge to push back Ren's bangs. He looked down at the homework assignment on his lap instead, humming in response. Ren fished for his own school bag on the floor, pulling out his work, and Goro played some jazz music for them on his bluetooth speaker. 

After the third time Ren tried to wrest control of the speaker to play his lo-fi jazztronica hip rock nonsense, Goro compromised and made a shared playlist for both of them. He hit shuffle play and turned back to his assignment. Was this what having a roommate was like? Hmm. It wouldn’t be terrible if Ren stayed over more often. Maybe Goro should get a futon for him or something so he wouldn’t have to take the couch next time. 

_Next_ time? Heat rushed to his face. He was getting way ahead of himself. Amamiya was only here because Goro was sick. That was it. He sneezed.

Ren’s hands shifted in the corner of his vision. After taking him along on the case, Goro had grown more aware of just how often Ren signed to himself. It was most noticeable when he was studying, repeating information back to himself under the table to process it. Now, there was no table, so Goro could watch his rapid hand movements unobstructed. Nihon Shuwa was quite a beautiful language. It was a shame there was nobody for Ren to communicate with. 

Hmm.

“Would you teach me some sign language?”

Ren looked up curiously from his work. “Right now?”

“I mean, if you’re not busy. The case I took you along is still ongoing and I may have to talk with Hiromi-san again soon.”

“Has there been any new progress?”

“There was a third case last week, but the department is reluctant to take further action. The case is still assigned to me, so will you teach me?”

Ren immediately agreed, shifting closer excitedly. He began teaching Goro finger spelling, shaping his hands slowly so Goro could mimic him. Ren physically corrected all of his movements like a potter shaping a vase on a wheel, their hands overlapping, sliding over each other. It was dangerously intimate. 

“You’re picking it up quickly,” Ren complimented. Goro preened. “If you practice, you’ll get more fluent. You can text me if you forget one of the signs or just look it up online.” 

After their lesson, Ren borrowed a detective novel to read from his shelves, done with his homework. Goro finished his last assignment and emailed it to his teacher, his hands still tingling from where Ren had touched him.

Ugh. Ren was too much. Goro was losing and he couldn't stand it.

What would it be like to make Ren flustered? To make his serene composure come undone?

Oh. He shifted uncomfortably, slamming the door shut on his thoughts before they got further out of hand. His wires must be crossed due to his inexperience with close relationships. Ren was the first person he’d liked being around in a while, so his brain was obviously converting those feelings into an infatuation of some sort. These feelings would pass in a few weeks. 

He stretched out his legs, accidentally kicking Ren on the other side of the couch. Before he could apologize, Ren patted his foot, not looking up from his book. 

“You’re fine,” he said distractedly. 

So, it seemed he didn’t mind then. Goro pulled a philosophy book from his bag to occupy himself until bedtime. 

He was just getting into it when Ren’s left thumb began tracing absent-minded circles around the inside bone of his ankle. Goro shivered at the sensation, torn between wanting to pull his legs away or pushing them further into Ren’s lap. His senses hyper focused on the point of contact, mind melting from how good it felt. This was pathetic; Ren was barely even touching him. He tried to focus on reading the page he was on, but he kept losing his place. It made him feel even more embarrassed. 

Ren’s hand stilled. “Hey, um, Goro.” 

“What?” Goro snapped, wound up.

“Can I ask you something?”

Goro raised an eyebrow at Ren’s grave tone. What was wrong? 

“Proceed.”

“If you actually had the chance to be a Phoenix Feathermen Ranger in real life, would you take it?”

Goro almost face-palmed. Ren really asked the stupidest questions. 

“Why do you ask?”

Ren shrugged. “Just curious.”

Goro sighed, playing with his bracelet. “No. I wouldn’t.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t believe vigilante justice enacts real change.”

Ren bit his lip. “Why not?”

“Have you heard of de Certeau?”

Ren blinked, cat-like, before shaking his head.

“He has a book called _The Practice of Everyday Life_. In it, he talks about two main ways of doing things: strategies and tactics. Strategies are put in place by the institutions and people in power. They are the traditional way of doing things; the well-trodden road. Engaging in strategies gives you access to institutions of power, such as the justice department. Tactics, on the other hand, are developed by the people without power in society. They rely on shortcuts and breaking norms to seize power quickly. Vigilante justice is a tactic.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Ren asked. 

“Well, firstly it's unstable. Vigilante justice can never become a norm, or a strategy, so it's guaranteed to eventually lose any power gained. Secondly, strategies and tactics correspond to spacetime. People in power have control over certain spaces. They maintain strongholds to maintain power. So, if the weak must overcome the strong with tactics, timing is everything. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s the right time for vigilante justice in Tokyo. A coup for power wouldn’t succeed in this precise socio-political moment. People are regaining confidence in the justice system with the rise in new prominent politicians.”

Namely, Shido. How disappointed the public would be when Goro exposed their revered leader for the scumbag he was.

“But things are worse than ever,” Ren protested. “People just don’t see it. Maybe they need their eyes opened.”

“And how do you suppose vigilantism accomplishes that?” Goro asked patiently. “Any progress made is hindered by the label of lawless brutality. And sticking to ideals is one thing, Ren, but ignoring the wishes of the public in regards to the justice they seek is egotistical.”

“The public is misled all the time,” Ren scoffed. “People judge others too quickly without having all the facts. They blindly trust those in positions of authority without understanding those positions allow the greatest injustices to go unpunished. Especially when the victims are young.”

“While I share your dislike for the flimsy whims of public opinion, I cannot pretend I exist outside of them, as freeing as it would be. My role as a media liaison for the Special Investigations Department doesn’t allow it. As to your other point, I can only agree. Adults are only interested in using the young while they simply do as the adults say.”

“I’m tired of it,” Ren confessed. 

“It’s just the way it is.”

Ren flopped onto Goro petulantly, and Goro’s heart stuttered. 

“Are you really happy with that?” Ren asked. He glanced up at Goro, looking exhausted as always, bruise-like circles under his silver eyes. Goro resisted the urge to touch.

“All we can do is gain the strength to protect our piece of the world,” Goro replied. “Beyond that…” _the rest can burn in hell_.

Ren huffed. “You’re kind of cynical.”

“You’re far too idealistic,” Goro countered.

The corners of Ren’s lips curled. “I guess we balance each other out.”

“We do.” Goro ran his fingers through Ren's curls, unable to stop himself. 

Ren fell asleep first, the book he’d been reading half-covering his face. Goro pulled it out of his hands before Ren could drool on it. After carefully maneuvering out of the tangle of their limbs, Goro threw a blanket over the other boy, retreating to his bed to sleep. He stared at his bangle, glowing dimly in the darkness.

If, by some chance, he made it out of all of this intact… the first thing he wanted to do was find Ren for a cup of coffee.

 _You should court him_ , Robin Hood suggested, uncharacteristically bold.

Goro told his Persona to shut up and pulled the blanket over his steaming face. It was too soon to be making those kinds of plans. There were still months left until the election. Besides, he didn’t even know if Ren liked boys or if Ren found him attractive.

 _This was a passing infatuation_ , he reminded himself.

And Ren didn’t fit in his world at all, but he had carved his place out anyway. So Goro was going to do everything to keep him there. Here. With him. He wouldn’t jeopardize their friendship for trivial things because in the end, he’d rather be Ren’s best friend than some passing romantic fling.

He fell asleep to the sound of Ren’s breathing on the other side of the curtain.

*

Sunday morning, they made pancakes. Goro was content to sous chef, knowing if he got too involved he’d probably burn something. 

Ren didn’t seem to be in a hurry to rush back to Leblanc, so they lounged in their pajamas, playing chess on Goro’s coffee table, talking idly of nothing and everything. If it was a typical Sunday, Goro would already be dressed and seated in a glitzy café to do his work and update his blog. It was surprising how little Ren’s intrusion in his routine bothered him. 

At first, Ren fussing over him had been insulting; Goro wasn’t so feeble as to be done in by a measly cold. Then, it had just become sort of nice to have all of Ren’s attention for a weekend. 

Ren embraced Goro in goodbye like a sentimental fool, and Goro’s heart contorted uncomfortably. He tentatively wrapped an arm back around Ren in reciprocation, so he wasn’t just standing around, stiff as cardboard. As they separated, Ren gave him a cheeky smile and tousled his hair. Goro hissed, instinctively patting it down while his brain reset for the third time that morning.

“Feel better soon, honey.” Ren sent him a flying kiss.

Goro's face burned. He hated him _so_ so much. 

*

By the end of the day, he’d pretty much recovered from his cold, though the cough lingered. With Ren absent, his apartment seemed even more quiet and empty and annoying than before. Goro loathed it.

His phone rang. 

Once. 

Twice.

He glanced at the number and grudgingly picked it up.

“I have a new assignment for you.”

“I believed I informed you that I was sick this weekend, sir.”

Shido ignored him. “Ichiryusai Madarame just confessed to his counterfeiting on national television. He was a critical patron of my campaign.”

Goro stilled. 

“He spontaneously confessed?”

“Yes. I suspect the Metaverse was in play, though none of my top researchers could deduct the method. I need you to investigate the perpetrators for me. You’re the only one who's capable of this.”

“You can rely on me, sir.”

“I know I can, Akechi.”

“What do we know about the perpetrators?”

“They call themselves The Phantom Thieves.”

“How childish,” Goro mocked.

“Agreed. They sent a calling card to the art gallery a while ago. I’ll send you a file later. The most important clue we have is their first victim: Suguru Kamoshida.” Goro’s blood ran cold. “He was a volleyball coach at Shujin Academy. I suggest you start your investigation there. I need you to identify these Thieves for me. Don’t eliminate them yet. I suspect we may be able to use them in our plans.” 

“Of course, sir,” Goro said absently, mind occupied. Ren had to know something about this. The question was, how much? How involved was he? Why hadn’t he told Goro?

Shido hung up, and Goro angrily blew his nose.

He had to be cautious before he accused Ren of anything. First of all, the Phantom Thieves were likely operating as a group and Persona users were not exactly commonplace. Civilians were useless in the Metaverse so it wasn’t like Ren could have brought anyone along to help. Secondly, Ren wasn’t strong enough to clear a palace on his own yet and there was no way he could have gained the strength to do it a few weeks after they had met. Finally, Madarame’s confession had happened this morning and Ren had spent the past few days at Goro’s apartment. When Goro performed shutdowns or breakdowns, they went into effect within a few hours. There was no way Ren could have snuck into the Metaverse and messed with Madarame’s palace while they were making breakfast together. It was a rock-solid alibi.

What was more likely was coercion, blackmail by some larger force masquerading as the amateurish Phantom Thieves. Did Kamoshida or Madarame feel true guilt, or were they just putting on a show to avoid something far worse out of prison?

He turned on the TV to watch the news reporting for Madarame’s confession. They were calling it a “change of heart,” whatever the hell that meant. He stared at Madarame’s face, hoping to deduce the genuinity of his expression. It was a somewhat impossible task.

His inbox buzzed with another message from Sae. Their meeting on Tuesday would include a brief discussion of Madarame’s case. No doubt Shido’s exerting his influence on the director again. 

Why did this complication have to appear right before his plans bore fruit? It was unnecessary and stupid, best dealt with fast. 

Then he could turn all of his focus on Shido.

And then, maybe…

Black curls, silver irises, dark eyelashes, smiling lips.

Butterflies raced up his veins. So stupid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 8/23: This chapter wasn't as polished as I liked, so I went back and revised it a bit more. Nothing major has changed. I just wanted it to read more smooth. EDIT 11/1/20 - Haha I edited it again bc I am never content with my writing. Again, no major changes. Just some small phrasing fixes.
> 
> In which this fic turns into a sick fic for 8k words. This chapter was self-indulgent as hell, but I wanted to write Goro loopy on cough syrup so that's what I did. This chapter also had more set up for the next arc. 
> 
> Goro finally realized he has a crush, so there's some relationship development maybe? 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos. They mean so so much to me! I promise I will reply to all the comments from last chapter ASAP. This chapter was a bit more rough so it required more editing time.
> 
> After this chapter, I am taking a few weeks off to work on more chapters and edit the chapters I already have written. I hope I don't keep y'all waiting too long. We are approaching the first reveal soon so I want to make sure everything is perfect.
> 
> DTW: Goro has a nightmare about his mother's suicide. Goro gets looped up by cough syrup (recommended dose). I don't think there's anything else but please let me know.


	11. the pre-trembling of a house that falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren's class takes a trip to the TV studio. Akechi's suspicions are growing.

When Sae had told him she was taking him to one of her favorite cafés, Goro had honestly not been expecting this. 

“What’ll you have?” Sojiro asked Sae, mouth a displeased line.

“One cup of your house blend,” she requested, not looking up from the case file. 

Sojiro began grinding the beans, his limbs stiff and taut like the strings of a bass.

“Your usual, kid?” he asked, grim eyes flicking to Goro, softening for a fraction of a second. 

Goro nodded awkwardly.

“Oh? You’ve been here before Akechi-kun?” Sae asked, eyebrows lifting.

“A close friend of mine works here.”

“I see,” she replied, disinterestedly. “I didn’t think this place could afford a part-timer.”

Sojiro scoffed, already pouring hot water over the grounds for her cup.

Goro absent-mindedly thumbed through the file of the latest psychotic breakdown, scribbling notes every other page or so. Ren had told him once that he had the handwriting of a perfectionist, tiny uniform characters written with surgical precision and an intensity that often bled through paper. Ren’s handwriting, on the other hand, curled carelessly—a loopy scrawl that slinked across the page like a cat of ink. It wasn’t particularly legible, but it suited him.

Sojiro slid a cup of Jamaican Blue Mountain down the bar. Goro lifted the mug and took a sip, wincing at the bitterness. It had been some time since anyone other than Ren had brewed his cup. Unless the instant shit Goro made at home for the sake of pumping caffeine into his body counted. 

Ha. Ren would have an aneurysm if Goro compared the two to his face. Goro added it to his to-do list. 

“I’ll handle the Madarame case files at the meeting tomorrow. You just need to present what we’ve already discussed this weekend,” Sae ordered.

“Understood. You can rely on me,” Goro promised.

“I should hope so,” Sae replied. She took a sip of her coffee, pursing her lips. “Excellent as usual.”

Sojiro scowled, polishing a mug. His eyes settled on Goro. “The kid told me you were sick.”

Goro’s lips curved up without his permission. “Ah, yes. Thank you for letting me have him this weekend, sir. I’ve fortunately made a full recovery.”

Sojiro huffed. “There’s no need to thank me, kid. When it comes to you, I’m not sure anyone could stop him.” 

Goro flushed.

“To be honest, you look better than you did last week,” Sae cut in, her eyes analytical, almost accusatory. Goro smiled bright.

“I took some time to recover this weekend,” Goro said. “It was unexpectedly relaxing. As you know, stress is the enemy of beauty. What you see is likely just a temporary glow up.”

Sae rolled her eyes. “It’s none of my business. I’m just glad you’ve recovered before our meeting.”

“Of course, Sae-san. I would never abandon you at the last minute,” Goro promised, sweet and hollow.

They worked in silence for the next hour, trading files and documents in a well-practiced dance. Sae was more than competent as an investigator, so it was a pity she’d been assigned to the mental shutdown case. Being an inside job, there had been no major case developments for almost two years, putting her career at a stand still. She should have been reassigned a while ago, but the SID director was a sexist son of a bitch.

The bell to Leblanc chimed and a black fuzzy blur skirted up the stairs. Morgana. That meant—

Warm fingers tousled his hair, completely disregarding the not insignificant effort Goro had invested in styling it this morning. 

“Ren,” Goro greeted, flustered. 

“Goro.” Ren smiled with his eyes, brushing the back of his hand over Goro’s forehead to check his temperature before moving to the other side of the counter.

“You look good.”

“I haven’t had a fever since Saturday night,” Goro said, bristling with embarrassment. He quickly smoothed the mess Ren had made of his hair.

Sae was staring at them with interest.

Goro cleared his throat. “Sae-san, this is my best friend, Ren Amamiya. Ren, this is Sae Niijima, my case partner for the mental shutdowns.”

Ren inclined his head in greeting, tying his green apron behind his back in a neat bow.

“Do you go to Akechi-kun’s school?” Sae asked.

Goro internally frowned. Sae had tunnel vision. It wasn’t like her to care about these pointless details. 

“Ah… no I go to Shujin,” Ren answered, his voice soft, unobtrusive. His posture was wary, standing slightly in front of Sojiro, visibly protective. It seemed he’d already picked up on the tense cues his guardian was giving off. Ren was rather perceptive after all. It would be strange if he _hadn’t_ noticed.

“I know someone who goes there too,” Sae replied. 

Ren looked unimpressed. He began chopping up vegetables in the side kitchen, unexpectedly savvy with the knife. He’d used one that day in the Metaverse as well if Goro’s memory served. The cool steel of the kitchen blade moved up and down fluidly, like a guillotine. 

Goro wanted to ask him about the change of hearts, just to confirm Ren wasn’t involved, but he couldn’t bring it up in front of Sae without garnering her suspicion. It wasn’t worth it. He’d just have to get Ren alone later. 

Sae stacked her papers together.

“I think we’re just about wrapped up here. Thank you for the coffee,” she announced. 

Sojiro rolled his eyes, still polishing the same cup. Goro added his connection with Sae to the list of things he should look into. 

“We’ll head off then. I’ll treat you to dinner, Akechi-kun.” 

“Ah, can we get sushi?” Goro asked.

“Hmm. Conveyor belt maybe.”

Ren chuckled in the kitchen, well-acquainted with what Goro thought of _that_. Goro wrinkled his nose. One of these days, he would get Sae to take them somewhere nice.

Ren came over to say goodbye, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel.

“I wish I’d come home earlier today,” he said, contrite.

“What were you even doing out for so long?” Goro asked.

Ren shrugged. “This and that. You’re coming over tomorrow, right?”

“Mm. I’ll see you then, Ren.”

Ren pulled him into a brief, spontaneous hug and Goro pretended he didn’t care that Sae Niijima was still standing right behind him long enough to hug back.

He grabbed his blazer and they left.

“The owner of that establishment could be critical for our case,” Sae informed him when they reached the station, voice low. 

“How so?” 

“There was a prominent cognitive psychologist who died nearly two years ago. Her name was Wakaba Isshiki. I doubt you’ve heard of her, but her research was…extensive to say the least. Especially in regards to sudden changes in cognition. That woman’s daughter is currently under the guardianship of that man, Sojiro Sakura. I’ve asked him about Wakaba Isshiki once before, but he refused to answer any of my questions. Needless to say, I _will_ get it out of him eventually. If he has anything of her research left, it may be key to solving these incidents.”

Goro froze. 

It was too much to believe. Futaba Isshiki, the daughter of the woman he had killed almost two years ago, and _Ren_ shared a guardian. What the hell was this kind of coincidence? Goro suppressed the hysterical laughter bubbling up inside him. 

Fate was a fucking piece of work.

“Akechi-kun…” Goro snapped back into focus, realizing Sae had called his name a few times.

“Sorry, what was that Sae-san?”

“That boy—your friend—Amamiya. He and Sakura seem close. Do you think you could ask him to—”

“No,” he interrupted. “Absolutely not. My apologies, Sae-san, but I’d prefer not to involve my personal life with our work.”

Sae gave him a frustrated glare, but Goro refused to relent. 

“Very well. I suppose I would say the same if our situations were reversed,” she admitted begrudgingly. 

“Thank you. I value our working partnership and would hate for you to think I’m not one hundred percent committed to solving this case. However, my relationship with Amamiya is not something I’m willing to brandish so readily.”

“I suppose your internship and schooling doesn’t afford many opportunities for friendship,” Sae observed, cutting as always. Goro narrowed his eyes, but did not allow the sunny smile to leave his lips.

“Yes. He’s an exception.”

Sae looked over at him, a knowing glint in her eyes. “A male colleague of mine gave me two tickets to the aquarium, but I don’t plan on going. You want them for you and your friend?” she asked, reaching into her pocket for the slips of paper. “They’re for some date at the end of July.”

“Oh! If you’re trying to get rid of them, then I will gratefully accept. Thank you, Sae-san.” Goro accepted the olive branch. His cheeks ached from how long he’d been forced to keep up his expression.

Sae shrugged like she didn’t care either way.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about the change of heart incidents, pointedly avoiding any small talk as always. Both of them were private people by nature. It was why they got along. 

* * *

Going to the church in Kanda made Ren feel like he was a character from Les Misérables. The unrepentant criminal whose heart was redeemed by God or something. Except he didn’t plan on quitting Phantom Thief work anytime soon, so maybe not redeemed. And he only stole the hearts of other criminals. And the stealing was more of a symbolic kind of thing rather than a physical phenomenon. 

Regardless, it was the atmosphere: continuous organ music playing in the background, frankincense and myrrh in the air, the way the light filtered through the stained glass windows, a chiaroscuro over the benches, as Yusuke would call it. 

“Arch your back,” Yusuke instructed, “And lift your arms higher. Show me your anguish!”

Ren wordlessly complied with the instructions, limbs shaking with strain.

“Hm. This position… this is truly the passion of Christ!” Yusuke proclaimed, mimicking Ren’s posture. “Forsaken by his disciples, abhorred as a criminal by the police, pierced with nails and hung on the cross… This is the true anguish of The Passion. It seems something is boiling up within me!” 

The Priest approached them. “What are you children doing?”

Ren and Yusuke fell out of their positions, and Yusuke began explaining about his art study to The Priest. Ren looked around as they conversed, noting a girl in the corner of the first pew playing shogi.

“I suggest you contain your excitement while you’re here. You may trouble the congregation,” The Priest advised. 

Ren and Yusuke exchanged glances. After he left, Yusuke let out an agonized groan.

“Hope from anguish… I’m not sure I understand. I must learn more about the hearts of men.” Yusuke turned to Ren desperately. “Ren, do you think I can capture The Truth someday?”

“I’m sure you will,” Ren replied, meeting Yusuke’s dark eyes reassuringly.

“Indeed…If I do not have belief in my own abilities, I will never come to accomplish anything.”

Ren nodded, glancing again at the shogi girl, who was playing a game by herself. It brought back memories of the afternoons from his childhood, when his parents were traveling and his uncle was busy with the shop. Yusuke continued and Ren turned to give him his full attention.

“Spending time with you has helped me discover new aspects of myself. You are, perhaps, a mirror of sorts,” Yuske said. The insight touched deeper than Ren expected. “If there’s anything I can do in return, please let me know. I wish to repay your kindness.”

Ren nodded, embarrassed. He hadn’t really done much except pose.

“Shall we depart?”

Ren shook his head, tilting it towards the first pew. “There’s a girl playing shogi over there, and I want to request a game from her. You don’t have to stay if you’re busy.” 

Yusuke’s eyes sparkled with interest. “I would love to stay if you would be willing to let me view your match. It may provide some inspiration.”

“Well, I don’t know if she’ll say yes.”

“Well then we must ask. Onwards,” Yusuke commanded, grabbing Ren’s arm and dragging him over to the girl.

Ren introduced himself and Yusuke somewhat awkwardly. The girl barely made eye contact. 

“Experimenting with new tactics is best to do alone in a place like this,” she said. “Please go ahead and pray.” 

It was an obvious dismissal.

“My friend would like to have a glorious battle of stratagems with you,” Yusuke proclaimed. 

She looked up, unimpressed. “Do you even play?”

“I’ve played chess,” Ren said. 

She sighed. “Well, take a seat then. This will be a quick game.” 

She ran him through how all the pieces moved and the system of promotion. Ren absorbed the information silently while Yusuke flopped on the ground with his sketchbook, already drawing. 

“A quick game. Twenty seconds per move. I’ll start.”

Ren nodded. They began the match in earnest. Ren noted with interest how she narrated each play like they were on a mythical battlefield. It was endearing. Shogi was more difficult than chess in many ways. Ren got caught in circles trying to catch Hifumi while doing his best not to get caught himself. By the end, he was completely on the defensive, trying to prolong the match as long as possible.

It only took her twenty three minutes to crush him. 

“The dragon which governs the blue sky has fallen into my hands. How do you intend to survive this?” she asked with a smirk. “Check! It’s checkmate no matter how you look at it. Please concede.” 

“Concede?” 

“To concede is an act of admitting that you have lost, with grace. If you aspire to become a shogi player, I recommend that you take your study of the game to heart.”

“Thank you for playing,” Ren said.

She hummed pensively. “Of course. If it’s alright with you, may I request another match sometime? I feel… a gambler’s spirit emanating from you.”

Ren nodded, pondering over what she meant by ‘gambler’s spirit.’ 

“What’s your name?”

She looked up at him, eyebrows flying up. “You don’t already know? But your friend’s in my class.”

Ren turned to Yusuke who was in full art mode, deep chuckles and all. He looked back at the girl and shrugged. She sighed.

“I’m Hifumi Togo. If you don’t know who I am, well, why did you approach me?” she asked.

“I thought you might like having an opponent.”

Hifumi’s lips quirked. “Well, I guess you weren’t wrong. So, are you up for a rematch some time?”

“Yes. Do you think you could instruct me on the finer points?” Ren requested. 

Hifumi looked thoughtful. “Only if you become my playing partner so I can research new moves,” she counter-offered.

“Bring it on,” Ren agreed.

“That’s precious,” she said wryly. “If you don’t mind, let’s trade contact information.” 

They exchanged phones. 

“I am done with the piece!” Yusuke proclaimed eagerly. 

Ren and Hifumi turned to view the finished product. 

The shogi player blushed darkly. Yusuke had drawn her as a queen, an ornate crown on her head. The pieces in between them were rendered as fantastical troops. Hifumi’s soldiers were dressed traditionally, wielding katanas and bows. Ren’s soldiers, on the other hand, looked like little nature spirits with wings and staffs. Yusuke had drawn him in a flower crown and an intricate cloak. Ren didn’t really get the whole nature vibe but he made appreciative sounds when the artist asked for their opinion.

“You may keep it, Hifumi-san. Consider it a token of our appreciation!”

Hifumi blushed even deeper. “Thank you so much, Kitagawa-kun! It’s amazing.”

The artist chuckled before turning to Ren. “Come my country boy, we must say our goodbyes and leave our humble shogi player behind.”

Yusuke went into the passion of Christ pose in farewell. Ren reluctantly followed in the artist’s footsteps so Yusuke wasn’t doing it alone. 

“You both are very strange,” Hifumi commented. “But I kind of like it.”

They waved goodbye and headed out of the church.

“Do you want to grab dinner?” Ren asked, knowing the artist must be feeling hungry by now. 

“If you would be willing to be my patron tonight, Ren,” Yusuke said, flipping his sketchbook closed.

“Sure,” Ren agreed easily. They still had so much money from their last Mementos run saved up, and their equipment was already up to snuff. A head of brown hair caught his attention and Ren turned to follow it, hoping it might be Akechi. 

No. It was only the student council president, stalking them again. He sighed disappointedly. Why would Akechi be in Kanda anyways?

“Your book is upside down,” Ren informed her as they passed. She sputtered before flipping it back around.

“Do you want to come back to Leblanc, or go out to eat?”

“Leblanc should be fine,” Yusuke said. 

*

After dinner, Yuske sat upside down on Ren’s couch. Ren followed him after a moment, wrapping his legs around the headboard. Their heads almost clunked into each other, and Yusuke laughed. They dangled wordlessly, blood rushing to their faces. Ren stared at the bare wooden ceiling, dismantling the beams in his mind, pulling the roof back to expose the starry underbelly of the sky.

“I wish we could see the stars.” 

“Do you like them?” Yusuke asked curiously.

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Yes. They are among the things I consider the pinnacle of beauty. We should all go stargazing some time,” Yusuke said. “Perhaps our next celebration party.”

Ren nodded. The artist made a frame with his fingers, pointing it at the wooden ceiling.

“They remind me of my mother,” Yusuke said, pensive. “Most of the stars in the sky are already gone, yet their luminescence still stretches light years to reach us here. Same way, my mother has long passed, but _Sayuri_ , like the last of her light, has still reached me now.”

“She loved you a lot.” 

Yusuke beamed. “Yes. That’s what I wish to hold on to. The _Sayuri_ is how I want to remember her—a memory given substance, if you will. It’s a memory I will never possess, except in this form.” 

Ren exhaled, letting all the air out of his lungs.

“Do you think art is materialized memories?”

“At some level, I believe so,” Yusuke replied pensively. “However, some art is fleeting: performative art, culinary art. These forms must live on as their own memory. I will admit, I may need to witness your glorious curry-making first-hand a few more times before it is properly engraved into my memories.”

Ren laughed. 

Yusuke saw the world so differently, every element refashioned to hold a deeper meaning and grace. When Ren was with him, it almost felt like he could see it that way too. It made him less angry about the things he couldn’t change. But sometimes, Yusuke’s view of the world was incomprehensible.

Ren saw no beauty in suffering. In agony. The work in Madarame’s real life exhibit had made his skin crawl. He’d had the unnerving sense that there were screaming bodies trapped underneath the paint.

“What are you two doing?” Morgana asked, jumping onto the couch to stretch out on their thighs. Sojiro had finally finished spoiling him with after-dinner treats then. Ren stretched out his arm to boop Mona’s nose in greeting. The not-a-cat yelped.

“We’re gaining a new perspective,” Yusuke said, half lifting his body up. 

Morgana grumbled something condescending at both of them under his breath, rubbing at his booped nose with a paw.

Yusuke dropped back down and they swung upside-down peacefully for a few more minutes. When Ren’s head started swelling, he used his hands to push off the ground into a handstand. Morgana yelped as he was displaced. Ren swung to his feet. Sumi’s lessons were definitely paying off.

“Give me some warning next time, Joker!” 

Ren shrugged. “Sorry.” 

Yusuke clambered down from the couch and they went down to wash the dishes. 

He headed back to the dorms on the last train, Ren walking him to the station just in time. The artist went into the passion of Christ pose again in farewell and Ren mirrored the goodbye making Yusuke glow. It was like having a secret handshake. 

Ren closed up shop and got ready for bed, following his nightly routine of texting Goro until Morgana’s scolding got unbearable. He sent a quick good night before Morgana stabbed him in the thigh and put his phone away.

The thieves were already looking for their next target, though the search would only begin in earnest after their Social Studies trip. A notorious criminal would be best. One the police couldn’t catch. It might make Akechi more willing to see the justice in what they were doing.

Their last argument over de Certeau… 

Akechi was so wrong. 

The point wasn’t consolidating power or taking over society. It was instigating change. 

Maybe one day in the future the Phantom Thieves would be condemned as notorious criminals, but if today, they could help those who were struggling—those that society had cast out and abandoned and oppressed, it would be enough. 

It would make it all worth it. 

It was all they’d ever wanted with any of this—why they’d started in the first place.

After their next target, Ren would strike. He would give Akechi everything he had.

Because Goro was fundamentally the same as all of them. He belonged with them. Ren just had to show him that.

He pulled the blankets over his head, chest tight like a vice. His hands trembled.

_Don’t let me lose him. Please._

* * *

Goro didn’t know why he was here. 

“—so mad because I admire her, you know? Like, she knows what she wants and even if the path she takes to get there is ruthless, she pursues it relentlessly. Man, I wish I could hate her,” Ann said. Her ice cream was melting. 

“She sounds like a real piece of work,” Goro drawled, eating his own cone neatly. 

Ann nodded emphatically. “She’s my top rival. My goal is to crush her in the modeling world. I kind of want to make her cry.”

Goro stared for almost half a minute. His lips smirked without his permission. “I wish you the best of luck with that endeavor.”

Goro had only seen Ren cry when they were watching movies. He was a pretty crier, which Goro thought was horribly unfair. The teardrops stayed on his stupid eyelashes, making them look even darker and curlier than usual and his silver eyes dampened, unable to keep his secrets for once, and he got all clingy and embarrassed, which Goro would rather die than admit was really fucking cute. He didn’t make any sounds when he cried, which had been a little unnerving at first because Goro had never met anyone who could break in complete silence. 

Fuck. Now Goro kind of wanted to make Ren cry.

Ann smiled deviously, like she could read his mind. “Your support means a lot. How’s your work going by the way?”

“It’s going.”

Ann laughed. “That’s not a real answer.”

Goro shrugged. “It’s the same old. I can’t tell you much more than that.”

“Oh? Is it something confidential?”

Goro nodded. “I’m about to start work on a new case.”

“Then I hope it goes well.”

Goro gave Ann his trademark Detective Prince smile and nodded in acknowledgement.

“Do you want to walk around the Underground Mall? Shiho’s birthday’s coming up and I need to look for a present.”

“What are you thinking of getting her?”

“I don’t know yet. That’s why I'm looking!”

“Okay,” Goro agreed reluctantly. The Underground Mall was crowded. He had hoped to keep fan encounters minimal.

“Hey, who knows, you could find something for Ren.”

“Why would I be shopping for him?” Goro asked coldly, trying to hide how flustered the question made him feel. 

“You don’t need a birthday to give a friend a present,” Ann argued. “Sometimes you can buy a gift to just show your appreciation.”

“I suppose you’re correct,” Goro conceded.

“You got surprisingly defensive,” Ann observed. “Hey, is it possible that you and R—”

“By the way,” Goro interrupted awkwardly. “How are things going between you and that girl, Shiho?”

Ann rolled her eyes, unimpressed by his sudden topic change. “Things are the same. Shiho is focused on her recovery and I’m focused on…other stuff.”

“Are you contemplating revealing your feelings to her any time soon?”

“It’s not the right time,” Ann said, her mouth flat. “Right now she doesn’t need that complication in her life. And I don’t know why she’d want to hear a confession from me when I wasn't there for her…before.”

Goro’s mother flashed through his mind. Her empty smile—her loneliness. A stone Goro could never lift up the hill no matter how much he tried loving her. There was a terrible absence in her, a hollow cavity Goro sometimes felt in his own soul.

But their situations were different. Ann was nothing like him. Goro couldn’t imagine her not being loved back by anyone she devoted her affections too. He couldn’t imagine she would ever not be enough.

“Perhaps you should consider enlightening her to part of your feelings. You don’t have to confess your desire for something more than friendship, but if you tell her how much she means to you, I personally think it would only aid in her recovery.”

Ann’s blue eyes glimmered with surprise. “I’ll… I’ll think about it. Thanks for the advice, Akechi.” She paused, viciously crunching the last of her waffle cone. “To be honest, I can’t get over it. The day Kamoshida…did that to her, he’d asked me out. I didn’t want to go with him, so I gave him some excuse. He’d been threatening Shiho’s spot on the team in return for getting close to me for a while. I…I didn’t know what to do, but I’d just had enough.” Ann exhaled. “If I had just stuck it out for one more day, if I hadn’t said no to him, he wouldn’t have touched her and maybe she wouldn't have...” Ann fell silent, trembling.

Goro’s hand squeezed into a tight fist. _Disgusting trash bastard_. 

“He was a vile predator, Ann. He may not have touched your friend that day, but there would have come another day. He may have assaulted you that night. You can’t put it on anyone but him.”

“You know what really gets me?” Ann said, her eyes dark and furious. “Everybody was in on it. The teachers, the principal, the other students, the parents. There was nobody. There was no way out. I can’t forgive Shujin for what it did to us…to Shiho.”

“They’ve failed their students in every way possible."

“Yes. If it weren’t for the Phantom Thieves…” Ann trailed off, eyes widening.

Huh.

“So you believe in them then?” 

“Ha ha ha, well I want to at least,” Ann said awkwardly. “Sorry, Akechi.”

“No need for apologies. I’m interested in your perspective. What do you think about their recent target, Madarame?”

“Well, I don’t really know much about the art world, to be honest. Ha ha. I’d never heard of him before all of this,” Ann said, almost nervous. “Anyway, let’s head over to the Underground Mall. I want to check out a shop for Shiho.” 

Ann began power walking across Station Square down the stairs. Goro followed her, pulling up his collar to decrease his chance of being recognized. 

As soon as they made it to the mall, Ann dived into the store yelling, “I’ll just be a moment,” behind her shoulder. Goro was left standing awkwardly outside.

He contemplated texting Ren to complain about being ditched, but he was pretty sure Ren was working right now. 

Internally grumbling, he turned around to pretend he was shopping. The perfume store made his head hurt after a few moments—too many nauseating aromas in one place—so he migrated to the jewelry store instead. 

He bumped into a group of fans, posing for a selfie and autographing things at random before politely excusing himself to look through the watches. Luckily, the encounter hadn’t attracted too much attention from other people passing by. 

He wandered the store listlessly, half regretting accepting Ann’s invitation. At least he’d gotten free ice cream out of it and a hint of Ann’s perspective on the Phantom Thieves. He would have liked to ask her more, but it was obvious she was uncomfortable. Few people disagreed with him as readily or easily as Ren. 

He spotted it as he walked by the glass display case, halting in his steps to stare. He moved on instinct, before he could think it through or talk himself out of it. 

Within minutes, Goro left the store, jewelry box in his briefcase. He could admit it had been a bit impulsive of him, but he could afford it.

Ann met up with him outside of the shop, her own bag in hand.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Goro asked pointedly.

“Not yet actually. I’m sorry for running away like that,” Ann said. “I needed a minute.”

“Are you okay now?” 

Ann nodded. “Do you have any ideas for Shiho?”

Goro frowned. “I don’t know her. Aren’t you her closest friend?”

“Yeah, but I’m sooo stuck. You have a bunch of female fans. Don’t you know what kinds of things they like?”

“I’d hope you’d want a birthday gift to be more personal than that,” Goro pointed out. 

Ann sighed. “You’re right. I need to think harder.”

They spent almost an hour wandering from store to store trying on hats and scarves and sunglasses, looking at trinkets and books. Ann seemed to only get more confused by all of the options, but that didn’t deter her enthusiasm. Goro allowed himself to be dragged along with only minor reluctance. 

They stopped by the flower shop, Rafflesia. If Goro recalled correctly, this was one of the places Ren worked. They talked to the woman behind the counter, Hanasaki. Ren wasn’t in today, but she had nothing but praise for him. She gave them both a fresh pink rose and sent them on their way.

“Here, let’s take a pic for Ren,” Ann said, leaning in next to him with the flower to take a photo with her phone camera. Goro held up his own rose, not bothering to smile. Once the picture was sent, Ann leaned back against the wall, looking absolutely lost. 

“I have no clue what to buy.”

Goro sighed, spinning the flower between his fingers. He hadn’t planned on playing life coach today, but here they were. 

“Anything you pick for her will be adequate precisely because you picked it for her. I don’t think these trivialities are worth so much stress, Ann. If you’re not happy with what you pick, you can always learn from her reaction. You’ve told me before that she’s very frank.”

“She is! If she hates it she’ll tell me straight to my face,” Ann agreed with a laugh. “Speaking of which, here.” She passed him the bag she’d been carrying earlier. “This is your birthday present.”

Goro startled. “The ice cream was really enough.”

“No. I insist,” she said stubbornly, crossing her arms, firm.

Goro reluctantly opened the bag. It was a plaid cashmere scarf with brown, red, white, and black pinstripes. Ann had discerned his tastes with frightening accuracy. 

“Do you like it?” she asked eagerly.

“Yes,” Goro admitted. “Was this why you ditched me?”

Ann laughed. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t have time to shop until today and I wanted it to be at least a little bit of a surprise.”

Goro's face heated. “Thank you.”

“Of course! I guess you might have to wait to wear it since it’s summer though, huh?”

“I can tolerate the heat, but I agree that it’s not exactly in fashion right now. I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

Ann flushed. “No biggie. I’m just glad you liked it! If only finding something for Shiho could be as easy. I think the more you know someone the harder it is to shop for them haha. Of course I’d like to get to know you better though.”

They fell silent, Ann nervously tapping her foot.

“Me too, Ann.”

Ann grinned.

“Well, I need to head out soon,” Goro said. “I have an interview this evening.”

“Is it a TV interview?” Ann asked.

“No. It’s a radio show, why?” 

“Oh, well our class is actually going to a TV studio for a class field trip tomorrow and Friday,” Ann said. “I guess I was just curious.”

Goro paused, pulling out his phone to check his calendar. 

“Which studio?” 

She answered and Goro bit back a laugh. He’d known a high school class was attending, but he never thought such a coincidence would happen. Ren would be so surprised.

They parted ways at the station, Ann staying behind to find the present and Goro heading to the radio studio as briskly as possible so he wouldn’t be late. 

When he got to the meeting room, his phone buzzed. He took a seat and pulled it out. 

> **Ren** : You and Ann look so cute, but I can’t believe you went to Rafflesia when I wasn’t there. :-( 
> 
> **Goro** : Hardly my fault you weren’t working there today.
> 
> **Ren** : Still mad. 
> 
> **Goro** : Don’t care.
> 
> **Ren** : If I was there I would’ve made you a bouquet. 
> 
> **Goro** : Oh? Which flowers would you have included?
> 
> **Ren** : I’m not telling you. Guess you’ll have to stop by another time. 
> 
> **Goro** : You're such a child.
> 
> **Ren** : Say what you will, I’m not talking. 

Goro’s mind instantly filled with all the different ways he could coax Ren otherwise; make him spill whatever Goro wanted to know. His face went hot. His idiotic infatuation on Ren was acting up again. 

When his name was called, Goro slipped his phone back into his pocket, trying to look like he’d been paying attention to the director, who, fortunately, hadn’t noticed his lapse. 

“Yes. I’m ready.”

*

*

*

On Thursday, Goro had to attend a briefing for his interview Friday. He went to the studio a little early, hoping to bump into Ren’s class. 

He found the menagerie of Shujin students easy enough, but neither Ann nor Ren were present. He swallowed his disappointment, heading to the back hallways of the studio to attend the meeting. There was always Friday. 

“Ooh! I know…go to that huge pancake…we passed on the way…looked delicious. What was that?” The words were garbled from the distance but Goro registered that the voice was unfamiliar and childishly high-pitched. Were some of the students back here? Goro paused in the corridor, listening.

“Ohhh…You mean Dome Town?” Another voice, deeper and more brusque. Male.

“It’s right in the middle of a business area, but they have some pretty hardcore rides there too.” That was Ann’s voice.

The high pitched voice spoke again and Ann replied. Then, the other voice chimed in and the chit chat continued. There was no opportune time to enter the conversation, so Goro strode forward anyways. Maybe he could ask Ann if Ren—

“Goro.” This voice he knew all too well. Deep and soft, like dark chocolate or black coffee—the stroke of a finger down the barrel of a pistol. Ren. 

He was standing behind his two classmates, disheveled curls and all. His glasses refracted light at an odd angle, hiding his eyes from Goro’s once over. Morgana peeked over his shoulder, and Goro nearly face-palmed. Of course Ren would bring his cat to a TV studio. Why did he expect anything different? 

Ren shot him a tiny smile like he knew what Goro was thinking.

“Akechi!” Ann smiled, bright and sunny. 

“Ann.” Goro nodded in greeting.

“Who the eff is this?” Ah yes. The second voice. Goro stared dispassionately at the boy with shocking blonde hair, wearing his uniform incorrectly.

So these were Ren’s school associates. But he only counted three including Ren. Who had been the owner of the other, high-pitched voice? He didn’t see any phones in use. 

“My name is Goro Akechi. I happened to be passing by, so I thought it would only be polite to greet you. We’ll be filming together after all.” 

He shot a smirk at Ren, who arched a bemused eyebrow in return. 

“Filming? What, you a celebrity?” the vulgar blonde boy asked gruffly.

“Only to the extent of appearing on TV a couple of times,” Goro offered. He reached for his phone to check the time. He was getting late. “My apologies, I truly was just passing by. I must be going. There’s a briefing for tomorrow’s recording that I have to attend.” He tried to smile affably at all of them. He might as well play nice with Ren’s peers. “So you’re going to go have cake now? I missed lunch today, so I’m quite hungry myself…” 

Ann and the other boy were exchanging looks of mutual confusion, and Goro got the impression he’d said something off. Meanwhile, Ren’s mouth twisted in disappointment. Ugh. They were probably going to have words about missing meals later. Why did he even bring it up?

He smiled gingerly at Ann and the other boy. “Oh? Am I mistaken? I thought I heard something about delicious pancakes. No matter. Well, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Ren—”

“I’ll walk with you,” Ren said, striding past his peers to Goro’s side. He hiked the bag with his devil cat higher over his shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a little bit,” he told Ann and the blonde boy. Surprisingly, they didn’t protest though the latter looked terribly confused.

Goro led the way. 

“How was your tour of the TV station?” he asked. 

“I almost fell asleep,” Ren admitted frankly. Goro coughed to hide his amusement.

“The toil behind the scenes, not as fascinating as the glossy, finished product?” he asked challengingly.

Ren scoffed. “You know as well as I do that all they’re showing us is a pretty, dumbed-down illusion. The real backbones of this operation is as corrupt as any other profit driven corporate operation that claims to be unbiased or offers ‘objective’ truth—" Ren cut off. "Sorry, I’m ranting.”

“I don’t mind. The media is a monolith,” Goro agreed. This specific studio had been accepting a small fortune from Shido recently, not only running political ads for him, but also focusing on stories that framed him in good light and denouncing his opposers. It was only through Shido’s influence that Goro was even here today.

“Hey, when does your meeting start?”

“4:30 pm,” Goro replied, glancing at his phone again. 

“I’m going to run and get you something to eat,” Ren said. 

Goro flushed. “Oh! There’s no need.”

Ren raised an eyebrow. “Just some milk tea and melon bread? I think there was a vending machine down the hallway we were in.”

“Why were you guys back there anyway?” Goro asked curiously.

“We were thrown into a valiant battle against long cables.” 

“You were asked to be ACs?”

Ren gave him a cheeky grin. “That’s what I said, ‘Kechi. Anyway, there’s still 16 minutes left. Wait here.”

Before Goro could say anything, Ren darted off to the vending machine, his footsteps silent as always. He moved like a cat. Goro sighed, setting his metal briefcase down. He supposed it would be alright if he wasn’t fifteen minutes early to a meeting for once. He was going to die of boredom in there anyway. His phone could keep him occupied while he waited. 

Ren was back sooner than expected, passing him the bread and tea.

“This was unnecessary,” Goro commented dryly between ravenous bites. He took a long sip of the drink. 

Ren rolled his eyes. “As if I’d let you off when you told me you skipped lunch. You’re still recovering. Anyway, when does your meeting end?”

“It could be anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half long. I’m hoping we don’t run over.”

“Do you want to meet us at Dome Town afterwards?”

Goro hummed contemplatively. “You, Ann, and your loud blonde friend?”

“Ryuuji,” Ren interjected.

“Ah, apologies. He didn’t introduce himself.” Goro fidgeted with his bangs. “Unfortunately, I need to do some work after this meeting. We’ll have to go another time.” _Preferably alone_ , Goro added in his head. 

Ren nodded. 

“Then will you come over for dinner?”

Goro smirked, his face relaxing. “I might be a little late, but I can’t say no to Sojiro’s curry. Anyway, before I forget.” Goro reached into his briefcase, pulling out a detective novel with a blue post-it stuck near the middle of the book. “This is for you. Same terms.”

“You’re going down,” Ren said, tucking the book under his arm.

Goro bit back a laugh. “We’ll see just how well you fare.” He smirked. “I need to be heading in now, but it was good to see you, even if it was only for a little while.”

Ren nodded in agreement. “Have a good meeting, honey,” he said, already turning to go catch up with his friends.

Goro started, almost tripping over his own feet. He cleared his throat, his face tomato red. He had to say something back. He couldn’t let Ren walk away with that stupid swagger in his step. 

He opened his mouth and closed it again, feeling like his whole body was buzzing. 

Ren disappeared around the hallway bend.

Goro wanted to punch something.

One of the meeting attendants shot him a strange look as they moved past him to enter the conference room. He tried, unsuccessfully, to smooth his face into something befitting his role but they were already gone. A hit to his reputation for sure. 

He took a minute to compose himself before entering the room. It seemed this was going to be a _thing_ now. He had to come up with a strategy to avoid losing again. Hmmm. What would fluster Ren back the most? He might have to experiment a little. 

The meeting director cleared his throat and began speaking. Goro immediately tuned him out, well aware of how these things worked already.

While the meeting went on, he turned over another problem in his mind. The mystery of the fourth voice. He could have asked Ren about it, but he wasn’t prepared to admit he’d been eavesdropping. Oh, but he’d already messed up with the whole pancake thing. He might as well.

> **Goro** : I thought I heard another person with you guys today. It was a high pitched, childish voice. Did it belong to one of your other friends? I might have mishear— 

Goro immediately deleted the whole message. It sounded strange even typing it out. He’d have to be on the lookout for the fourth person tomorrow…

“Does that sound good with you, Akechi-san?”

Goro looked up and smiled. “It sounds perfect. I’ll look over the script tonight and make sure I have it memorized. I can’t wait to work with you all tomorrow.”

*

*

*

The interview began well. He spotted Ren in the second row back and smiled in greeting. Ren waved back, blending in with the rest of his cheering classmates. He was seated next to that other boy from yesterday. Goro wondered if they were close.

The show started. The interviewers got straight to the point today, not dawdling on inane questions about his personal life.

“Allow me to be blunt for just a second. What do you think of these justice-oriented Phantom Thieves?” the host asked.

Goro smiled. “If they truly are heroes of justice, I sincerely hope they exist.”

“Oooh, so you don’t deny the possibility that they’re real?”

“I may not seem like it, but I sometimes wish that Santa Claus existed. Although if he did, I’d have to arrest him for breaking and entering,” Goro joked, delivering the corny, scripted line. After the wave of laughter died down, he got more serious. “But hypothetically speaking, if these Phantom Thieves are real, I believe they should be tried in a court of law.”

“That’s quite the statement. Are they committing crimes? Some people even say that the Phantom Thieves are helping their victims abandon their evil ways.”

Goro rebutted the question easily. “What the artist Madarame did truly was unforgivable. However, they’re taking the law into their own hands by judging him. It is far from justice. More importantly, you should never forcibly change a person’s heart.”

“You have a point. These people are calling themselves Phantom Thieves, after all.”

They finished up the discussion before switching to the next component of the interview.

“Now then, let’s try asking some students around the same age as Akechi-kun about the Phantom Thieves.

The poll numbers showed up on the screen. About 30% of the students believed in the Phantom Thieves. Their first target had been a teacher at Shujin after all, and children loved having heroes to root for, even if those heroes would ultimately be proven false. It made sense. 

“I’d love to hear some more detailed opinions on the Phantom Thieves’ actions,” he requested.

The hostess stood up to ask someone in the audience their opinion. Goro noted with interest that she stopped right in front of Ren.

“All right. Let’s try asking this student here. Hypothetically speaking, what are your thoughts on these Phantom Thieves, if they were real?”

This was not opportune at all. Goro had wanted to ask Ren his opinion on this matter at a later date. Preferably when they were sitting close enough for Goro to see his reactions clearly.

Despite the hostess standing in front of him, Ren turned to look straight at Goro, the glint of his frames hiding the most expressive feature of his face. 

“They do more than the cops.” Ren’s voice was unwavering, despite the microphone thrust in front of him and the attention of everyone in the room.

Goro laughed because only Ren would try to start a debate with him on live television. Well, if it was a debate he wanted, it was a debate Goro would give him. 

“This completely goes against the opinion you had about them being tried by law, Akechi-kun.”

“Indeed,” he replied, looking straight at Ren. “It’s rather intriguing to hear such a strong acknowledgement. In that case, there’s one more question I’d like to ask. If someone close to you, for example your best friend…If his heart suddenly changed, wouldn’t you think it was the work of the Phantom Thieves?”

Ren smiled at him, too intimate for the trash around them to see. 

“They only target criminals,” he answered steadily. 

Goro’s stomach sunk at the firmness of the reply. He supposed he was actually the type of person the Phantom Thieves _would_ target. 

The type of person Ren would condemn. 

“I see. But how can you be so sure?” 

If Ren truly was a Phantom Thief… Goro’s heart dropped. Then he was already in Shido’s scope. 

No. He shouldn’t let his anxieties lead his conclusions. The most probable answer was that Ren was just a fan of the stupid Phantom Thieves because they had taken care of Kamoshida. If Goro had been the one to arrest that bastard first, that admiration would have been directed at him instead. 

But Ren hadn’t confided in him.

The hostess finally moved away, coming back up to the front. They continued the discussion of the Phantom Thieves, Goro warning about the consequences of using the Metaverse for ill wrought mind control experiments. 

“The existence of the Phantom Thieves would be nothing but a threat to our everyday lives. To be honest, I’m already working alongside the police to help sort out this matter.”

His eyes flickered back to Ren who was looking at him with intense, unnerving focus.

The show ended and Goro said the appropriate goodbyes to the appropriate people, shaking hands and the like, keeping a close eye on where Ren lingered by the exit. His loud friend left in the direction of the restrooms and Ann walked ahead leaving Ren alone. Perfect.

Goro made a beeline for him. 

“Ren,” he greeted. 

Ren nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Goro.”

Goro chuckled. “You know, I was reading Kierkegaard last night and thinking of our discussion of the media yesterday. You might find it interesting considering the topic of the interview today that Kierkegaard described the public as a _phantom_ , or a monstrous non-entity. It reminded me a bit of the Phantom Thieves.”

Ren didn’t react to Goro’s pointed reference in any discernible way. Instead, he wrinkled his nose. “Kierkegaard?” he asked, sounding more betrayed than one ought about such things. “But isn’t Hegel your favorite?”

“That’s beside the point,” Goro dismissed.

“But didn't you say Kierkegaard and Hegel are like the Featherman Black and Featherman Red of the philosophical world?”

Goro sputtered. “Well, I… I didn't word it quite like that.”

“Doesn’t Kierkegaard hate Hegel?”

Goro floundered. 

“Yes,” he finally admitted scornfully, clearing his throat. “But it’s always important to understand dissenting ideas.” Goro stepped forward, pressing his advantage. “Speaking of which, I’ve never asked you your opinion of the Phantom Thieves before, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised given the context of our prior discussions. Nor should I have been surprised that we’d begin a debate on national television. However, I will admit, I much prefer having our conversations in the privacy of Café Leblanc and Jazz Jin.”

Ren finally looked up at that, hardly fazed by Goro invading his space. “I agree.”

“I need to go to the police station now, but I’ll see you tonight? We have _so_ much to talk about.” 

Ren nodded and Goro smiled bright, baring his teeth.

*

*

*

After an hour of dissecting Ren’s opinion on the Phantom Thieves over drinks, Goro was no closer to alleviating his doubts. Nor was he any closer to changing Ren’s allegiance. He really wished Ren would have been on his side in this, it would have been fun dragging him around to try to uncover the vigilantes together. But since Goro was still grappling with the possibility that Ren was one of those vigilantes, it was time for more serious measures. 

Ren stretched, and their legs tangled under the table. Despite knowing he was a suspect, Goro’s heart still swooped at the contact. His stupid infatuation hadn’t gone away yet. They worked quietly, Goro doing the last of his preparations for his entrance exam on Sunday and Ren picking at math equations. 

They walked back a little earlier than usual, winding through the allies in a shortcut to the station.

“Akechi-kun?” Goro turned with interest. That was Sae Niijima’s little sister’s voice. If he wasn’t mistaken, she attended Shujin, like Ren.

“Hello, Niijima-san. What a pleasant surprise,” Goro greeted, smiling charmingly. 

“What are you doing here with _him_?” she asked.

Ren stiffened beside him and Goro stepped in front of him, frowning scathingly at her rudeness. “I’m not sure I like the implications of your statement, Niijima-san. I’m free to socialize with whomever I please.”

She cleared her throat. “My apologies. I was only surprised that you both knew each other. After all, Amamiya is a Shujin student.”

“It was a fortuitous encounter. Speaking of which, the Phantom Thieves seemed to have originated from Shujin Academy. As the student council president, I’m sure you must have noticed something amiss during the Kamoshida incident. Would you mind sharing the details with me? There have been victims after all, the Phantom Thieves need to be pursued,” Goro inquired, glancing decisively at Ren instead of Sae’s sister. It would be a stretch to call Kamoshida or Madarame victims. The statement had been crafted to anger, but Ren’s expression stayed as smooth as marble. 

“You criticize the Phantom Thieves, yet you don’t doubt their actual existence,” Niijima observed.

“Common sense can get in the way of pursuing the truth. Many details become logical if I think on the premise that they do exist.”

“Is this...because my sister told you to do so?”

“It was just a coincidence.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re enjoying this?” she asked angrily.

“You may be right,” Goro replied.

“Huh?”

“Phantom Thieves that use calling cards and succeed in their crime and the so-called ‘Charismatic Detective,’ it’d be hard for me not to see them as my rival.”

Ren’s smoke eyes widened almost imperceptibly, as the slightest tinge of _something_ flickered over his face like a shadow. Goro smiled triumphantly. _Bingo_.

“You have such high self-esteem,” Niijima said sarcastically. 

“I’m only using my natural-born talents for the sake of serving the world. Don’t you think the same about yourself too?”

“I—” she hesitated. _Huh_.

“Oh, that’s surprising. So you’re just the good-girl type of pushover.” He tucked a strand of hair back behind his ear, already bored with the conversation. He’d gotten what he needed to lead with Ren. “I’ll see you on Sunday for our exam. Sae-san told me we got the same testing site.” 

Goro dragged Ren away with him before she could reply. When they had gained enough distance, he dropped Ren’s wrist. They walked the rest of the way to the station a respectable distance apart. 

He still had more questions than answers. But first…

“You had an interesting reaction when I called the Phantom Thieves my rival,” he said casually. “Do you disagree?”

Ren went still for a few seconds, before sticking his hand into his pocket like he was reaching for something. 

“I thought I was your rival.”

Goro’s face burned, his mouth inadvertently opening and closing.

 _You smooth son of a bitch. Did you really just say that?_

Goro couldn’t stand it. He would not be rendered speechless another time. Ren might think he was winning their little game, but Goro could easily take the lead. And he would. 

Right now. 

Summoning every ounce of recklessness in his limbs, he smirked, reaching forward to brush one of Ren’s curls away from his face. He traced Ren’s cheekbone with his thumb before he pulled away. 

Ren froze at the contact, his wide dark eyes reflecting the lantern lights of Kichijoji. 

Too easy.

Flustering him always felt so damn good.

“Could it be, you’re jealous?”

Ren bit his lip, turning his face away. Goro wanted to pull it back towards his.

Goro laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re my only true rival.” 

“And the Phantom Thieves?” Ren wondered.

Goro smiled enigmatically.

“A passing interest. Don’t worry. They’ll be dealt with soon enough.”

Ren’s eyes flashed with something like defiance before it was smothered behind his usual smoke and mirrors. Sleights of hand with expression—Ren’s own particular brand of magic.

“I’m not worried.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I don't have a huge buffer yet so I can't resume regular updates, but tbh feedback really helps encourage me to keep going and I didn't want too long to pass before I updated again so I decided to put this chapter up! It's been ready for quite some time and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! They really mean a lot to me. I always go back and reread all the comments every few weeks because it always makes me super happy haha. 
> 
> Detailed CW/TW: Ann and Goro talk about Shiho and Kamoshida again, which means they talk about sexual assault. Ann blames herself. Please let me know if something doesn't sit right or needs to be mentioned here.


	12. twist the sinews of thy heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves get tangled up with Kaneshiro. Goro begins investigating his top suspect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [xtobefreex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtobefreex) for emotional support / reassurance. Also giving this chapter a once over <3

Yusuke stayed over the weekend after their celebration party, sleeping on the couch. He had purchased two tickets to Ikebukoro’s planetarium, citing artistic inspiration, and they went with Morgana that night. The show was a pleasant distraction from the tension building in Ren’s spine, even if Morgana kept talking every five seconds.

Would Akechi actually arrest them if it came down to it? 

They had debated their next target at the party, but hadn’t come to any clear conclusions. If they wanted to persuade Goro to their side, it would have to be a criminal the police couldn’t catch. Someone big. Maybe then Goro would change his stance on them.

Yusuke bought glow in the dark stars at the gift shop and they returned to Leblanc. While Ren got ready for bed, Yusuke dragged the chair from his desk and began randomly sticking the stars onto Ren’s ceiling.

“Fear not, Ren. I will arrange them in the most intricate and beautiful patterns for your nightly viewing pleasure. This is my gift to you in return for all the assistance you’ve given me with my artist block.” 

Ren smiled, embarrassed but happy. “Thank you, Yusuke.”

Maybe he could try making some star latte art for Yusuke next time in return. Or let Yusuke try his hand at latte art. He might like that better.

The detective novel Goro had given him was waiting for him on his windowsill. He sat cross-legged in bed to start reading. Morgana curled up in his lap to follow along. Halfway through, Akechi began texting him, so Ren abandoned the book to respond.

When it got past 2 AM, him and Yusuke got settled in for the night and turned the lights off. 

The stars were arranged in configurations resembling the constellations. They glowed a soft yellow in the darkness of the attic and Ren mapped routes between them as he tried in vain to fall asleep. 

He was hurtling towards an ending. However Akechi reacted, whether it was fury or forgiveness, something fundamental would change between them. 

Ren couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. 

He liked Akechi. 

A lot. 

More than he’d liked anyone before. 

He liked Akechi’s hair, his lips, his voice, his smirk, and how smart he was. He liked how their hands fit together and how they could talk with their eyes and how Akechi remembered random details about him off-hand and how he always listened to Ren so intently like Ren’s opinions were actually worth something. Just everything.

Ugh. It was embarrassing thinking about it.

What was he supposed to do with all of this?

Akechi was a celebrity. The detective trying to catch them. His best friend.

And Ren was a criminal. The school pariah. Joker. 

Morgana shifted uneasily, sleeping on his chest, and Ren stroked the sleeping not-cat soothingly. 

It was impossible. 

*

*

*

Of all the ridiculous, stupid things to get caught for. 

_Ryuuji, why?_ Ren despaired. 

The Student Council President had finally made her move. She was blackmailing them. Their last awkward interaction in Kichijoji with Akechi still lingered heavily on both of their minds, even though they hadn’t spoken directly to each other at the time.

“Does _he_ know about your activities?” she asked after playing the recording for him. 

Ren shook his head.

“I’m sure you’d like to keep it that way, wouldn’t you?” Makoto asked, her eyes narrowed. “Won’t you take me to your friends?”

Ren brought her to their hideout. Perhaps they should have chosen a more inconspicuous location than the Station Pass. After everyone got over the fact that another person now knew about their criminal activities, Makoto came out with it.

“I want to verify your justice.” 

They glanced at each other in mutual agreement. They couldn’t stop here.

Ren nodded and Makoto smiled.

“Meet me at the rooftop tomorrow after school.”

*

*

*

After a week of investigation, Ren was certain Akechi was going to murder him for his carelessness. If he ever found out, that was.

Pictures. Pictures of all of them dazed with shock, surrounded by drugs and alcohol, Makoto on the ground. 

They had been so so foolish. 

_Junya Kaneshiro_. 

Pitch black ire surged through his veins, the rage, a flashing siren in his eyes. He adjusted his glasses with shaking hands. 

He hadn’t been able to keep them safe. 

He’d failed. 

Guilt gnawed at him with bone-like teeth.

He was their leader. He knew it was more of an honorary title—they operated as equals—but it hadn’t quieted the instincts that snapped at his heels. Especially in the real world, where they didn’t have their powers to defend themselves. Ren’s record was already permanently damaged, but the others still had so much ahead of them. If those pictures got out… 

Ren sighed, lifting his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

It was ridiculous to contemplate what ifs when they still had time left to change Kaneshiro’s heart. But if it came down to it, Ren wouldn’t let anything happen to Makoto. To any of them. 

Whatever he had to do.

He could feel Arsène’s jack-o-lantern mouth gleam in the back of his mind twisting into a wicked grin, completely aligned in their resolve. 

*

*

*

“Why are we here?” Akechi hissed, arms crossed, his ruffled hair poofing like a cloud of caramel around his face. 

Ren stuck his glasses on to Akechi’s face in lieu of replying, giving him a once over to make sure the disguise was perfect. Akechi’s fans would be hard-pressed to recognize this version of him: grumpy, endearingly disheveled, reluctantly affectionate—an Akechi that only Ren was privy too. None of the glittering pomp of the Detective Prince. This Akechi belonged to him.

His face heated. 

Just one more thing and they’d be good to go.

“Here, let’s switch blazers.”

Scowling, Akechi complied, passing Ren his beige coat. Ren handed him the black Shujin blazer and he threw it on haphazardly, pulling at the buttons with repressed rage. Ren winced at the harsh treatment. 

“That’s my only blazer, Goro,” he complained.

Akechi smiled brightly. “I guess you should have thought about that before you gave it to me, huh, Ren?”

Ren sighed, throwing Akechi’s coat over his shoulders, not bothering to put his hands through the sleeves. Akechi was a bit broader and taller than him, so the blazer hung over Ren’s shoulders, a little too big. Akechi was staring. Ren looped his thumbs under his suspenders, feeling self-conscious.

“No.”

Ren raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Don’t wear it like that.”

Ren fidgeted with his suspenders. “Does it look that weird?” he asked sheepishly, looking up.

Akechi looked pained, his face bright red.

“It’s going to fall off and get dirty.” 

Ren huffed incredulously, rolling his eyes as he complied, slipping his hands through the sleeves and adjusting the collar before doing the buttons. God, Goro was such a stickler. 

A button all the buttons, dot all the i’s, curl all the y’s, brush the hair and re-tie the shoelaces every morning, sort of person. Ren wrinkled his nose. If only he could be so particular about eating three meals a day.

He knew it was selfish, but he wanted to escape everything for just a few hours. Akechi was the only one who could silence all the clatter in his mind—the constant pulse of everything he needed to be doing at any given moment. Kaneshiro. Ann and Mika. Yusuke and his creative block. Kasumi and her tenuous honors student status. Ryuuji and the Shujin track team. Kawakami’s financial troubles. Takemi’s patient. Yoshida’s election. Maruki’s research—

“Why do you even have your blazer? Hasn’t Shujin switched to summer uniforms?”

Ren blinked. “I had to give a presentation for class today. I thought it looked more professional than the polo.”

Akechi sighed. The Shujin blazer suited him surprisingly well. Maybe Ren could convince him to take a picture together? They actually didn’t have a lot of photos together, now that Ren was thinking about it.

“Let’s just find who you’re looking for and leave.”

Ren nodded, leading the way into Shinjuku. 

They took a detour at the plant shop almost immediately. There was a sale on succulents, so Ren yanked Akechi over despite his protests. 

“It looks like Loki,” Ren said, pushing a zebra plant succulent into Akechi’s hands. 

Akechi scoffed. “This looks nothing like Loki. It’s green.”

“I meant the pattern.”

“Loki is not a zebra, you fool.”

Ren rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll take it,” he told the shopkeeper, passing over the appropriate amount of yen.

“Are you serious?”

“It’s for you,” Ren said.

Akechi’s eyes widened. “For me? Why would you—” he cut off and cleared his throat, turning his flushed face away. He fiddled with his bracelet. “Listen, you idiot, I’ve never cared for a plant. Unless you want it dead, you’re better off taking care of it. I’ve seen the plant in your room.”

Ren’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Charlie! I better buy some nutrients for him now that we’re here.”

“Did you name your plant?” Akechi asked, judgment lacing every word. 

“I name all my plants. We should name yours now. How about Lo—”

“No. We’re not naming it Loki. I already have a Loki, and trust me, one is more than enough.”

“Then Sigyn? She’s the Norse Goddess of Victory.”

Akechi rolled his eyes. “She’s also Loki’s wife. Don’t think that slipped me by. Regardless, I’m not keeping it, so there’s no point giving it a name.”

“But why?” Ren asked, pouting.

“Don’t look at me like that. I already told you I’ve never cared for a plant before.”

“You just have to water it occasionally and put it somewhere with light. It’s simple enough that even you could do it,” Ren teased. “But if it sounds too hard—”

“No!” Akechi interrupted, eyes flashing competitively. He looked like he wanted to strangle Ren, but he contorted his lips into a pained smile instead. “Of course not. If someone like you is able to be successful at it, I’m sure it’ll be child’s play.”

Ren smirked. “Great. Just give me a minute to pick one for myself.”

“I’ll do it. It’s only fair, after all. You picked mine, I pick yours.”

Ren shrugged and moved out of the way so Akechi could get a closer look at the varieties. He thought Akechi might be gunning for revenge, but he seemed to be seriously considering all the options. He finally pointed at an echeveria.

“This one looks sort of like a lotus. That’s what your name means, right?”

Ren nodded, surprised.

“We’ll take it.” Akechi turned to the shopkeeper and handed her the yen in payment.

Ren protested, face heating. “Oh, you didn’t have to—” 

Akechi waved his hand dismissively, handing Ren the succulent. Their fingers brushed. 

“We’ve already wasted enough time. Just hurry up.”

He led Akechi to the fortune teller’s stand. 

*

When they arrived, Akechi halted in his tracks, incredulous. He yanked Ren to the side. 

“You’re joking,” he said flatly. 

“I’m not.” 

“You brought me to Shinjuku, risking my reputation, for a cheap two-bit fortune teller?” Akechi hissed.

“She’s not cheap,” Ren protested. She was actually quite expensive if Ren remembered the prices right. 

“You’re not convincing me.”

“Please?”

“I refuse to be part of this.”

“I thought you believed in fate?”

“I do believe in fate. _However_ , I don’t believe in the people who proclaim they can read it. They’re scammers, the lot of them.”

Ren rolled his eyes. “Fine. You can just provide moral support.”

“Why would you need moral support?”

“What if she tells me my love life is hopeless and I have no career prospects?”

“I would laugh,” Akechi said dryly. “If you believed her at her word, then you’d be more pathetic than I thought.”

“Hmm…” Ren smiled mischievously. “Worst case, I can just become your trophy husband, right?”

Akechi froze. He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, face flushing a deeper shade of crimson by the second.

“As if I would ever marry someone as... as _ridiculous_ as you!” he sputtered. “Just go see your stupid fortune teller, so we can get dinner.”

“If you were my husband, I’d cook for you every day, Goro,” Ren teased.

“Go!’ Akechi yelled, covering his face with his hands. 

_Cute_. Ren’s heart danced in his chest. Akechi was too much fun to mess with. 

Ren gave him a smug flying kiss before exiting the alleyway to greet the fortune teller. Akechi followed after a moment. Ren seated himself on the stool, and Akechi hovered over his shoulder, curious despite himself.

“Hello there. This is your first time here, yes? It’s not often that I get young men stopping by my stand.”

Ren gave the fortune teller a slight nod. Akechi adjusted his gloves. He had gotten replacements a week back, so his fans would stop questioning him on the missing one. His posture crackled with impatience. 

“Anyway, my name is Chihaya Mifune. I will be reading your fortune today. Will your friend also be getting a reading?”

Akechi scoffed. “No, thank you.”

Chihaya nodded, turning back to Ren. “You can begin by telling me your name.”

“Shouldn’t you already know it?” Ren joked. 

“I suppose I could attempt to divine it if you’d like. Let’s begin with your last name. Is it… Yamamoto? Mishima? Or perhaps… Amamiya? Hmmm, this may take longer than expected.”

Ren told her his name. 

“Ah. Ren Amamiya-san. I see. Your name is quite lucky.” 

Akechi huffed behind him, unimpressed. 

She asked him what reading he wanted.

Ren requested a full consultation because he could use all the guidance he could get at this point. 

“Very well. I suppose the life of a high schooler is difficult, after all.”

She began with the initial reading, flipping over multiple cards. Ren’s third eye flashed open and shut when she turned over the last one. Akechi shifted restlessly behind him and Ren wondered if he had sensed something too. 

“Your first card is… Hmm. As for the second… Yes, I’ve seen everything. A stream of light obscuring the sun...like an arrow tearing through the sky… The fool and justice card intertwined with the upright two of cups. There’s someone in your life, either someone you’ve already met or will meet in the near future, who your destiny and love life is unified with. In other words, a soulmate. You will find a strong partnership and connection with this person and associate them with the justice tarot card. This means they may act as a balancing force in your life.”

Ren blushed, a certain someone coming to mind embarrassingly fast. He hoped Akechi hadn’t noticed his reaction. The detective had gone still behind Ren, staring at the configuration closely, like he was trying to deduce the meaning.

“Oh! I see. There seems to be new wealth in your future. Your financial fortune is looking good today. This wealth of which I speak will come from your house. Head home without a detour and precisely five thousand yen will await you there. 

“I’ll do just that,” Ren agreed. He couldn’t see Akechi’s face, but Ren knew he was rolling his eyes.

“As you should. Fate is absolute!” She turned to look back at the table. “But...what is this? How strange. Amamiya-san, the general flow of your future seems to indicate… Ruin? And an inmate, locked away in a lonely cell… You seem to be a good person, Amamiya-san, but are you perhaps mixed up with the wrong crowd?” 

Akechi snorted. Ren twisted to give him a chastising glare, and Akechi immediately pinched his cheek. 

_Ow_. Ren shoved his hand away, sulkily turning back to the fortune teller, and Akechi chuckled behind him, failing to muffle the sound behind his hand.

 _Jerk_.

Chihaya flipped over the next card. 

Her posture stiffened like she’d seen Medusa. 

Ren’s third eye blinked open again, a strange sense of urgency coursing up his limbs. 

“Beyond that… Oh my…” Chihaya looked up at him carefully, face stiff and grave. “It seems… continuing on your current path will lead to your… **death** in the near future.”

Something cold worked its way down Ren’s spine. His third eye had reacted—meaning, it wasn’t an idle threat. But how would he die? Was it related to Phantom Thief business?

Akechi’s hand clasped Ren’s shoulder rigidly. He gave Chihaya a harsh glare.

“Come on, Ren. We’re leaving.”

Ren brushed his hand over Akechi’s wrist, requesting a minute. 

“How do I avoid that?” he asked.

Chihaya paused thoughtfully. 

“I cannot offer advice to that end… Hm. If the divination is coming to me this clearly, the truth of it is simply undeniable.” 

Akechi’s fingers tightened like a clamp. 

“Although now that I think about it, there may be a way you can attempt to counteract your destiny.” Chihaya reached into her pocket pulling out a purple colored rock. “All you need is my special spiritual object: the Holy Stone! With its power in your control, you can avoid even the most unfortunate of futures… probably!” Chihaya went on to describe its properties. Ren tried to pay attention, but Akechi finger’s were flexing, trying to tug him away from the stand, and it was very distracting. “As for the cost, it’s only one hundred thousand yen! Not bad for an item that can change your very future, yes?” 

Behind him, Akechi had gone completely still. 

He suddenly released his clenched grip on Ren’s shoulder and stared down Chihaya with vicious, dagger-like contempt.

“I refuse to listen to this bullshit any longer!” he spat, feral. “If you think we’re going to buy into your fucking pyramid scheme because of your pathetic threats, you’re horribly mistaken, Mifune-san. I’ll be investigating the legitimacy of your so-called business. Expect me soon,” he hissed murderously. 

He gave Ren a pointed look before dramatically storming off towards the train station.

Ren gave Chihaya an awkward apology before scrambling after him.

When he caught up, he found himself pushed against a wall, Akechi seething near his face. 

“You gullible idiot! She targeted you because you’re so fucking naïve!” Akechi snarled derisively, baring his teeth. “And what were you doing, going along with everything she was saying? Surely you didn’t believe her.” 

“But I do believe her.” 

Akechi’s face went blank before it contorted with rage. 

“You pathetic imbecile. She’s a hack. She was _lying_.” 

Ren narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t sense anything, when she flipped the cards?”

Akechi scoffed. “I don’t rely on anything as useless as my _feelings_ ,” he spat, mockingly. “I’ll be looking into this Holy Stone business; it reeks of a Ponzi scheme.” 

“Please don’t get Mifune-san in trouble.”

Akechi leaned in. “Oh? And what exactly has she done to earn your sympathy?” he asked, dangerously soft. 

“She genuinely believes in the stone. She’s not trying to scam me, and I don’t think she would lie to me about my fate.”

At that, something desperate came to life in Akechi’s face. He shoved Ren against the wall even harder, pinning him in place. His harsh breaths grazed Ren’s face, only inches apart. 

He was shaking like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Ren stilled in shock, completely taken aback.

“Shut up! IT WAS A LIE! You’re not going to— not as long as I’m around. You’re fucking not allowed to, you idiot! Do you understand me?”

Ren nodded mutely. 

He couldn’t think when Akechi looked at him like that. 

Akechi released him.

They walked the rest of the way to the station in tense silence. Ren followed a little behind Akechi, the underpinnings of guilt hammering into him like needles. He’d never seen Akechi so stressed out before. This was supposed to be a break for both of them.

On the train, they sat next to each other, still in the wrong outfit. Ren’s shoulder throbbed and he wondered if Akechi had bruised it. His face heated at the thought. He fiddled with the succulent, sticking it into his pocket where it wouldn’t move around so much. 

After a few seconds, Akechi hesitantly reached for his wrist, pulling it towards himself and holding it firmly with his fingers.

 _He’s feeling for a pulse_ , Ren realized. He allowed the contact silently, surprised that Chihaya’s words had gotten under Akechi’s skin. They detached after a minute.

“I…I apologize for being rough with you, Ren,” Akechi said. “To be honest, your nonchalant attitude pissed me off… At least… at least with me of all people, don’t talk like that.”

Ren shifted miserably. 

Goro was _worried_ about him. 

It was a weird feeling, but he didn’t hate it. Most people knew he could take care of himself. He didn’t need to be fussed over or protected. 

And even though he believed Chihaya, that didn’t mean destiny couldn’t change. 

He still shouldn’t have made Akechi upset. 

If it had been the other way around… If Akechi had been the one Chihaya had read death in the cards for… If he had dismissed it so carelessly… 

Ren dug his nails into his thigh. 

Yeah, he was an idiot. 

“It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me, Goro. And I… I didn’t mean to—” Ren’s throat constricted. He’d never been good at this kind of thing. 

He reached for Akechi’s gloved hand instead, intertwining their fingers, palms pressed together. 

He squeezed gently. 

After a second, Akechi squeezed back. 

He’d never consciously noticed it before, but Akechi’s hand was actually bigger than his. 

After a minute, Ren reluctantly let go, his whole body tingling from the point of contact.

He reached into his pocket and handed Akechi a red earbud.

Akechi pushed it into his right ear, and Ren slid the left one in its place. He pulled up the playlist Akechi had made for them the other day, and hit shuffle.

Coltrane’s “Giant Steps” came on first. 

The fast tempo swept him away instantly. Ren barely resisted tapping the rhythm out with his foot. 

After a few moments, Akechi spoke hesitantly. 

“You know, there’s an interesting story behind this song,” he said. “Wait for the piano solo. It’s right before the 3 minute mark.”

They listened in silence until the piano took the center stage.

“It’s disjointed,” Ren realized a few seconds in.

“They say the pianist, Tommy Flanagan, got the sheet music a week before the session. Coltrane told him Giant Steps was a ballad, but in the recording session, he took the fast tempo. Flanagan was taken aback, barely able to keep up. That’s why his improv solo sounds so confused and hesitant.” Akechi scoffed. “I’m sure Coltrane had a good laugh afterwards.”

Ren frowned. “I don’t know. I think the piano solo provides a nice juxtaposition with the boldness of the rest of the piece. Coltrane’s part feels more confident because of Flanagan’s soft, uncertainty. They complement each other. Like two friends, a shy one and a loud one.” 

Akechi tsked. “Of course you’d somehow make it sentimental.”

Ren’s lips quirked. “It’s sentimental on its own, Goro. I’m sure Coltrane trusted Flanagan to keep up with him, and he did.”

“Barely.” Akechi scowled. “I would find it infuriating if I was Flanagan.”

“Oh? But I thought you liked challenges,” Ren teased. 

“I like winning better.” Akechi’s eyes darkened like burnt sugar, a conspiring smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in towards Ren, _too close_. “And winning against you, _darling_ , is best of all.”

Ren leaned back sharply, breath catching in his throat. He almost tumbled to the train floor in his haste, but Akechi clasped his shoulder, steadying him. 

“Careful,” he murmured.

His hand slipped away and Ren’s heart jumped to a dangerous tempo. Thank god Akechi wasn’t measuring his pulse anymore. _Calm down_ , he repeated. _Calm down calm down calm down._

“What’s wrong, _darling_? You don’t like your pet name?” Akechi asked, smug. 

“No, _honey_ , I _love_ it,” Ren replied, his throat embarrassingly dry. He felt almost feverishly hot, like his whole body was burning up. He pressed his cool hand to his cheek for relief.

Akechi laughed into his sleeve, trying to pretend he was coughing. Ren knew his laugh too well to be fooled at this point. He wanted to be mad at Akechi for teasing him, but all he could think about was how Akechi laughed helplessly, with his whole body, shoulders dancing, eyes watering, trembling with mirth. Ren couldn’t look away.

The song ended with a descending flourish and Akechi lifted Ren’s glasses, still on his face, to wipe a tear, sighing his laugh away. The tension between them dissolved completely as the next song started playing. 

Akechi started a new lecture on jazz. Something about improv and minor chords. 

God, his voice was always so nice. Smooth and light, vowels soft, consonants sharp in his mouth. A wryness in how he worded things. 

Ren’s head inadvertently drooped onto Akechi’s shoulder as he listened, eyes growing heavier with each blink. Akechi’s arm drifted around him, saving him from being jostled by the unsteady motion of the train. 

Akechi nudged him petulantly. 

“Are you even listening to me?”

Ren nodded stubbornly, only half-conscious.

Akechi sighed.

The hand on Ren’s waist tightened like a curl of flame and then Akechi’s head was resting back on top of his, strands of messy chestnut hair falling like a curtain in front of Ren’s eyes. 

Ren’s breath hitched. 

“If you drool on me, I swear I’ll throw you out of the train,” Akechi threatened half-heartedly.

Ren laughed, warmth rising up through him like sunrise.

It was a rhythm. The heartbeat that underlied the world.

Ren didn’t know when he’d started hearing it—he’d been feeling the resonance in his bones for longer—but it played in his head now all the time like his favorite song. It wasn’t something that needed to be reciprocated or smothered out or confessed. It just _was_. 

Ren wrapped his own arm around Akechi, hiding his face in the crook of Akechi’s neck so Akechi wouldn’t be able to see how flustered he was. 

  
  
  


_I love you_. 

*

* * *

The problem was that Ren was exactly the kind of person who would become a Phantom Thief if he could. Their conversation the other day about vigilantism was still fresh in Goro’s mind. Ren hated the justice system, hated inequality, and hated those who abused their power and influence to oppress people. All very sexy opinions, but also characteristic of someone who might choose to rebel against the corrupt government if they had the power to do so. And Ren had a Persona, access to the Metaverse, and a connection to one of the targets. 

It would be foolish if Goro didn’t investigate him enough to clear him of suspicion first.

The easiest way to get rid of his doubts would be to trail Ren for a few days and see what exactly he was up to. If he was just a fan, like Goro hoped, it would be easy enough to confirm after a few, albeit boring, days of following him. But, if Ren was even more idiotic than Goro thought and had somehow gotten himself involved with a certain flashy amateur vigilante group…

Goro scowled at the thought, the sudden urge to punch something nearly overcoming him.

It took a week to enact his plan. Goro’s schedule was as hectic as ever, and if he spent less time with Ren, Ren might start to notice something was up. He had to rearrange and cancel a few things, clear up some time slots where he could be free to investigate.

He began Sunday morning before dawn, keeping watch from a side alley next to Leblanc. It was hopefully early enough that he hadn’t missed him. There was a hideous, vaguely familiar bike in his way. Goro pitied whoever had to ride that monstrosity. 

After only ten minutes, the sound of approaching footsteps ambled down the path, and Goro ducked into hiding behind a corner, wondering who was here.

A boy with dark blue hair and a white hoodie came into view and began flinging stones at Ren’s second story window. What the hell? Goro snapped a picture of the boy with his phone, planning on ID-ing him later. His face was extremely familiar. Goro got the feeling he’d seen the boy in a case file. 

Ugh, Ren wasn’t making this easy for him. 

The window slid open, Ren’s tousled head poking out. He rubbed his silver eyes, adorably sleepy.

“Fox?”

_A nickname?_

Something curdled in Goro’s stomach.

“Ren! I find myself burning with artistic inspiration this morning. Will you join me in the pursuit?”

Ren gave the stranger one of Goro’s favorite smiles. The one where his eyes crinkled with joy. 

“Let me change. I’ll be right down!”

The window slid shut quickly only to open a few seconds later. _How had he gotten ready so quickly?_ Before Goro could blink, Ren was climbing down the trellis like the buffoonish protagonist of a romance movie instead of using Leblanc’s staircase and door like a normal responsible human being. 

_If you fall, you fool, I will drag you back up to your window and push you down again myself_ , Goro threatened, fretting as one of the trellis segments broke off, hurtling to the ground. Ren swung to the ground like an acrobatic little shit. 

_Show off_ , Goro scoffed.

“Will Morgana be joining us?”

Ren shook his head. “Still asleep.”

“Very well. I thought we could go to Inokashira park,” the stranger said. “I found a spot of unparalleled beauty.”

Ren nodded. He was wearing his black corduroy cat overalls with a short sleeve maroon shirt underneath and black combat boots with dark crimson laces tied into neat bows. The shirt dipped low enough to expose the arches of his collarbones. They were surprisingly delicate, like a pair of wings. Goro recognized the outfit from their shopping trip with Ann. Ren hadn’t brushed his messy curls, but his bed head somehow looked artful and alluring rather than unkempt. He looked…

Goro cleared his throat irritatedly. How he looked wasn’t important for the mission.

The stranger began walking ahead, but Ren paused. He glanced around the alley, his eyes flickering maroon in the light. Goro stiffened as Ren stared directly at his hiding place.

“Are you coming?” the stranger asked.

Ren’s narrow gaze skirted around the alley one last time.

“Yeah.” 

He spun on his heels and followed after the other boy. Goro exhaled in relief. After a few minutes, he followed them from a safe distance. He knew they were going to Inokashira park, so he would be able to catch up easy enough. 

… 

Goro wasted an hour watching Ren pose in increasingly precarious positions for his artist friend, who he had identified on the train as Yusuke Kitagawa, Madarame’s former student. The first nail was hammered down. Kitagawa’s acquaintanceship with Ren could be a coincidence, but it was rather unlikely. Ren would no doubt have some bullshit explanation handy if Goro cared to ask. 

It was too early for conclusions and this wasn’t decisive evidence, but Goro couldn’t disguise the bitter tang of betrayal and ire flooding his mouth. It felt like a stab to his chest.

How could Ren have lied to him so easily?

It didn’t help that Kitagawa was entirely too handsy with Ren, directing his limbs helter skelter in ridiculous angles, touching Ren several times to get the pose exactly as he wanted it. It made Goro’s gut churn in a way he struggled to identify. Could this also be a result of his… _feelings_?

Kitagawa dug his filthy paint-stained hands into Ren’s curls to tilt his head a certain angle and an ugly feeling pricked Goro’s heart like a thorn.

 _What right does this Bohemian have to be so intimate with our beloved?_ Robin criticized scathingly. _It’s terribly improper of him._

Loki growled menacingly in the back of Goro’s mind, grumpy and petulant.

 _He’s not our beloved, Robin,_ Goro corrected.

 _Only because you won’t court him_ , Robin fired back.

 _Shut up,_ he told both his Personas, getting a headache from the whole thing. He couldn’t figure out why he was even upset about this. Of course, Ren would be affectionate with his friends. It was only to be expected. 

It wasn’t like Goro was special. 

He pulled out a book for one of his classes to distract himself with until Ren and Kitagawa were done.

They parted just as the sun began rising. 

Goro trailed after his rival, who was glancing around tensely every few seconds like he could sense Goro’s presence. He would have to be careful with this. Ren was too sharp for his own good.

While Ren had his face turned away, a red-haired jogger ran right into him.

“I’m so sorry, Senpai! I didn’t see you!” she apologized frantically.

Ren shrugged, brushing himself off. These two knew each other then?

“Did I hurt you?”

Ren shook his head.

 _He wasn’t very verbose around others, was he?_ Goro observed with muted satisfaction. Even with Kitagawa, he had barely uttered over a dozen words. Maybe this was what Sojiro had meant when he called Ren quiet.

But Ren _loved_ talking to Goro. They could spend hours together arguing about justice or jazz or Feathermen or philosophy or literally anything under the sun. Goro knew the cadence of Ren’s voice as well as he knew his own. He’d memorized what Ren sounded like when he was sleepy, when he was jittery from too much caffeine, when he was frustrated or tired, impressed or excited, when he thought he was winning a game of chess, when he figured out he was actually losing the game of chess, when he was hoarse from talking too much, when he was happy, when he was teasing… when he was soft and affectionate. It was knowledge he treasured jealously, like a dragon.

“Now that we’ve run into each other, do you want to train for a bit, Senpai?” she asked, blushing. Goro narrowed his eyes, resisting the sudden urge to step in and interrupt their conversation. 

“Sorry, Sumi, I promised Ryuuji I’d meet him for breakfast,” Ren said. “Could we train tomorrow after school?”

“I should have some time before practice, so that should work perfectly! I actually need your advice on something, Senpai, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

Goro rolled his eyes. The bright-eyed, devoted way she looked at Ren was nauseating.

They talked for a few more minutes, Goro unable to figure out what exactly they were training in. Sumi, as Ren had called her, seemed vaguely familiar. Had he stumbled on another potential Phantom Thief? He needed to start a pin board to trace Ren’s web of potential vigilante associates as soon as he got home.

Ren wished her luck in some tournament in parting and her face went pink. Goro glowered, scornful. Her crush was so obvious it was pitiful. Did she even know Ren at all? Or had she just hooked on to her handsome, shy Senpai to be her knight in shining armour? Pathetic.

The only saving grace was that Ren wasn’t reacting at all. It was almost as if he hadn’t noticed her advances. Surely he wasn’t that oblivious? Between the two of them, Ren typically had the edge in reading people, much as Goro hated to admit it.

Ren took a train back to Shibuya, and Goro slipped into the train car behind his. As fascinating as this glimpse into Ren’s life was, Goro didn’t want to follow him all day if he wasn’t going to give away any more evidence of his potential criminal activities. It felt a little too invasive.

But if Ren was a Phantom Thief… 

Goro bit his lip hard enough to bleed, fury rising like a swarm of locusts.

Ren strode up the subway stairs and down the street towards the diner. Goro waited a little distance away, trying to look nonchalant.

Being a celebrity, that didn’t work out too well. He smiled for a few pictures and signed a sundry of strange items, before he was overwhelmed by the number of fans swarming him. He’d have to wear a disguise next time he could take time off to investigate. This was ridiculous. 

A hand brushed his arm and Goro almost shoved it away before he realized it was Ren.

“‘Kechi. Are you okay?” Ren murmured, scowling at the horde of admirers surrounding them.

Fuck. His cover was blown.

Ren’s loud blonde friend was standing by the diner, unable to make it through the crush like Ren had. 

Ren reached for his sleeve. 

“C’mon, Goro.”

Somehow, he slipped both of them past the mob of fans, pulling Goro into the diner before Goro’s fans even noticed he was gone. His blonde friend trailed behind them on the stairs. 

“Do you want my glasses?” Ren asked, already taking them off. 

Goro accepted them even though it was too late, leaning forward so Ren could slide them on to his face. Ren reached for his hair, but Goro sharply moved away, still upset about the Phantom Thief business. Ren dropped his hands awkwardly.

“You can eat breakfast with us,” Ren offered. “That looked…” He paused, searching for the right word.

“How the eff do you do it man?! They’re vicious as hell!” 

“I will admit, dealing with my fans can be stressful,” Goro conceded, unwilling to drop his Detective Prince facade for anyone but Ren. “But it’s still a valuable part of my job,” he explained, primly, adjusting his tie.

Ren’s annoying friend stared at him, utterly baffled. Ren shot Goro a knowing look, before turning to the blonde boy.

“Hey, Ryuuji, did you introduce yourself last time?”

“Damn, I totally forgot! I’m Ryuuji Sakamoto. What’s up?”

 _The sky_ , Goro thought petulantly. He slid into the booth after Ren. 

“I’m Goro Akechi, if you’ll remember from the other day.”

The waiter came around and took their orders. After he left, Goro turned to Sakamoto with interest. Another potential associate with the Phantom Thieves.

“So, how did you meet Ren?”

Sakamoto froze, eyes wide like a hedgehog unearthed from its burrow. Surely, it wasn’t too strange of a question?

“Ryuuji and I bumped into each other on the way to school,” Ren offered. “He showed me a shortcut and we hit it off from there.”

“Oh! I remember now, Renren. That’s exactly how it went down, haha. Shit, I guess it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Why were all of Ren’s friends so shady? Except Ann, perhaps. And what was with Sakamoto’s _Renren_ nonsense? Goro wrinkled his nose. Such a childish nickname hardly suited Ren at all.

The conversation continued and before long Goro wanted to bang his head against the table. He could physically feel himself losing brain cells the longer he talked to Sakamoto. This was torture. 

Beside him, Ren was watching them, looking unusually amused. Goro tried pinching his thigh under the table, but Ren grabbed his hand before he could. 

_I hate you, you fucking liar_ , Goro thought furiously, his right hand burning pleasantly in Ren’s. If he pulled away, Ren might get suspicious. Yes, he might as well keep his hand where it was. So Ren wouldn’t suspect that Goro was on to him. Yes.

Ren was taking the backseat in the conversation again, not really speaking unless he was directly addressed. The fool seemed content to observe Goro and Sakamoto fumble through disastrous interaction on top of disastrous interaction. They shared no common ground with each other, making any attempt at conversing absolutely futile. 

It was getting harder and harder to keep up his pleasant Detective Prince persona.

They clashed over the Phantom Thieves for a bit, Sakamoto bearing obvious resentment towards him, likely for his comments at the TV studio. Goro tried explaining his perspective three times before he gave up. Sakamoto was stubborn and stupid, two of the things he hated the most. Even worse, Ren was probably on Sakamoto’s side instead of his. 

Finally, they found the one thing, or really person, they could talk about in peace: Ann. Apparently, she had gone to middle school with this dunce. Goro could admit the stories were entertaining, even if they were checkered with Sakamoto’s vulgar curses. He seemed to bear an underlying animosity towards any and all forms of authority. Goro was sure there’d be a reason if he cared to find out, but at the end of the day, did it really matter? He was not blind to the shortcomings of the justice system, much as he enjoyed playing the Devil’s advocate with Ren.

By the end of breakfast, Goro and Sakamoto had cemented a mutual disregard for one another. They exited the diner, Sakamoto leaving to help his mother with something. 

He and Ren were finally alone. It would be too difficult to resume the investigation now, so Goro dragged them to Kichijoji for billiards. 

They ascended up the stairs to Penguin Sniper.

It wasn’t like he didn’t understand where Ren was coming from. Ren probably thought he was enacting justice on the world, taking down criminals the police couldn’t touch. 

_My stupid little idealist_ , Goro thought exasperatedly.

But did he understand the consequences of using the Metaverse for his whims? The danger he put himself in so recklessly? The attention he was garnering from Shido?

Even the thought of Shido finding Ren filled Goro with unspeakable dread. 

Something venomous played a fugue up his spine, darkening the edges of his vision. His fists trembled.

He would **never** allow it.

…

  
  


“Here,” Ren said, recapturing his attention. 

Goro exhaled. He noted the positions of the balls and smirked. 

“How are you still so pathetic at this?” he asked, taking the cue from Ren. Their fingers brushed.

Ren sighed, sitting on the edge of the baize to watch Goro play. 

Goro landed perfect shots, one after the other, conscious of Ren’s eyes on him.

“Come here.”

Ren hesitated for a brief moment before complying, uncrossing his legs and sliding off the table.

“Line up for this shot.”

“Goro…”

“Do it. It’s not any fun playing against you when you’re this terrible.”

Ren scowled at him before leaning down, half-draped over the baize, poised to hit the cue ball at the wrong angle.

Goro had very few ulterior motives when he pressed up close behind Ren, pushing down on his shoulder so it was better positioned.

“Relax. You’re too stiff.”

Ren grew even more stiff at that.

Goro sighed, kicking Ren’s heels apart so his posture would automatically ease up. He leaned forward until he was practically lying across Ren’s back.

“You’re aiming too low on the ball. Lift this hand higher.”

Ren complied wordlessly. 

“Breathe,” Goro reminded, turning to speak into Ren’s ear.

Ren inhaled and Goro placed his right hand over Ren’s on the cue stick, their fingers interlocking. He left his other hand on Ren’s waist.

“You typically have good instincts, so use them. Think about the force you need to give the ball so it can fulfill its task. It’s all physics. The momentum you give the ball diffuses across the entire table. You control how it diffuses based on how you angle yourself.”

Ren’s lips quirked. “Yes, Sherlock.”

Goro’s face heated at the nickname.

“Ready?”

Ren nodded.

Goro drew their hands back before gliding forward. They struck the cue ball together with the perfect amount of force and spin. It hit the 9 ball which collided off the 13 ball. They rolled to opposite ends of the baize, sinking into corner pockets on either side of the table.

They immediately turned to look at each other in excitement, their noses bumping. 

Goro’s face burned. He quickly backed away, untangling their fingers and slipping his hand off Ren’s waist.

Ren was fidgeting with the one curl that always covered his face. His cheeks were flushed.

“Is it my turn?” 

“No,” Goro answered, reaching for the cue. Ren handed it over willingly.

Goro’s ability to focus had been crumpled up and set on fire, so it was no surprise when he missed. He tossed Ren the cue stick irritatedly and Ren caught it with one hand. He moved around the table, searching for an easy shot. When he found one, he positioned himself, drawing his hand back. He hesitated. 

“Um, Goro. Do you think you could check my posture again?”

“One demonstration wasn’t enough?” Goro demanded, still buzzed from being so close to Ren. 

“Well, um, you said a lot of physics stuff.”

“What? Momentum and diffusion?”

“Yes! Exactly. Those were…the words,” Ren said. “So, um, if you could just make sure…”

Goro rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m coming. This is the last time,” he warned.

“Of course,” Ren replied, poker-faced. “I think I almost have it.”

 _No, you don’t_ , Goro thought to himself, adjusting Ren’s awkward hand bridge.

It wasn’t the last time.

They played a few more games and Ren was visibly starting to improve by the end. 

He was still nowhere close to besting Goro’s non-dominant hand, but it was a start. 

*

*

*

Goro began trailing Ren again the next week, wearing a disguise to prevent another mishap.

It was strange. Like turning a kaleidoscope or tilting a cut gemstone in the light to see the different facets. The Ren that existed alone, outside of their relationship, was a stranger, and Goro wanted to know everything about him.

He approached it philosophically. Enlightenment era. Natural laws.

What were the governing principles of Ren Amamiya?

His observations:

First, Ren had all the life preservation instincts of a butterfly. Which is to say, he didn’t have any. He flitted through the city at night like a shadow, drifting into back alleyways, shady shops, and seedy Red Light District bars with troubling frequency. The only saving grace was that he seemed to possess a curious anonymity. People overlooked him, which was surprising, considering how objectively attractive he was. Maybe if he took off his stupid fingerprint-smudged glasses and stopped shrinking into himself all the time and ironed his school uniform so it wasn’t so crumpled—

Well, that was the second point. Ren didn’t let his guard down easily. He always had some kind of veil up, whether it be as simple as his spectacles or as shaggy as his bangs. Meekness was his disguise. He didn’t make himself vulnerable, no matter who he was talking to. It was a kind of defensiveness Goro recognized in himself. A deep-seated mistrust of the world. Whenever Goro got too close in his trailing, he could practically see Ren’s hackles rise. His smiles, already somewhat rare when he was with Goro, were practically non-existent. He mostly just looked sad.

And his eyes… Goro had never been on the receiving end of Ren’s contempt or indifference, so he hadn’t noticed how cutting they were. He understood for the first time why Ren needed to wear glasses. Stormy, brazen, frighteningly incisive, stern. Those were fighting eyes.

Next, Ren was constantly in motion: going places, doing things, working part-time jobs, meeting people. Goro didn’t know if it was insomnia or what, but Ren’s schedule was unreasonable. Almost as hectic as Goro’s and Goro was a celebrity detective, an assassin, and a 3rd-year high school student. Ren didn’t seem content to stand still even when exhaustion bled into his body. Goro understood the dark circles under his eyes now, the constant tiredness and napping. Ren was burning himself out like a matchstick. But why was he pushing himself like this? What was he trying to accomplish? Was it because of the Phantom Thieves?

The answers were unclear and Goro’s frustration only grew.

Ren had built a complex network of social connections that spanned half the city. Goro’s pinboard got busy fast, red threads forming a web across the map.

The Ren who worked at the flower shop was gentle and thoughtful, gifting yellow roses to children with a flourish and crafting intricate bridal and confession bouquets, entwined with dozens of the most intimate meanings. He comforted weeping strangers while he weaved wreaths for their dead parents and spouses and friends and loved ones.

The Ren who accompanied the aging politician on Sunday nights was fierce and silent, holding a sign and glaring naysayers down. He and the politician often ate together afterwards, the latter gazing at Ren with doting, grandfatherly eyes when he thought Ren wasn’t looking. And Ren seemed to have his own fondness for the other man, granting him more words than he did for other people. 

The Ren who helped out at the bar in Shinjuku was confident and sensual. He moved between patrons with enviable grace, lending them an ear and his time like their insignificant worries actually meant something to him. He dismantled drunk bar fights with a handful of words and kicked out troublesome customers with the help of a few choice threats from his boss. Some of the drunkards flirted shamelessly with him, though the owner was quick to jump in if anyone was too inappropriate. Goro plotted vicious hypothetical murders of the most vulgar patrons to cope with the dark protective feelings surging through his veins with every infringement on Ren’s person. Loki vibrated with ire. A bar in Shinjuku was no place for a high schooler.

The Ren who worked at the airsoft shop could disassemble and reassemble a model pistol blindfolded. The ex-Yakuza owner timed him for fun while the shop had a moment of downtime and he capped in under ten minutes. Goro could do faster and more efficiently, but Ren’s meditative composure and his unwavering hands made the skill so much more breath-taking to Goro. Especially in the end, when Ren took off the blindfold and held the assembled gun: cold metal firm in his hand, his smoke eyes half-lidded from the influx of light and his stupid kissable mouth dispassionate as he stared down the barrel. 

Goro _wanted_ —a visceral tug to his soul, drawing him always towards Ren. His eyes darkened, heart racing as he thought of every single thing he wanted to do with the Ren who held a gun like it was a mere extension of his body. 

But it wasn’t just that one. Goro wanted every single part of Ren to himself. 

There was the shy, soft-spoken Ren who diligently studied cooking and coffee brewing with Sojiro. The bumbling Ren who carried his cat everywhere with him and, embarrassingly enough, talked to it in public. The Ren who stopped to make conversation with the homeless man sitting on a blanket in the station every time he passed. The cheerful, straightforward Ren who accompanied Ann through her shoots. The loyal brother to Sakamoto and Kitagawa. The sweet, protective Senpai. The shogi player. The muse.

Ren was a fucking shapeshifter. A matryoshka doll.

Goro would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous. Because Ren effortlessly took on the shape of whatever space he needed to fill, to the point of absurdity. While he didn’t purposefully try to attract attention to himself, the people he did befriend always seemed so hopelessly drawn to him. Goro had tried to fit in his entire life, tried to make people like him, tried to be what they wanted, and he had never found a single place he belonged—a single place he felt comfortable in. Well, until Leblanc perhaps. 

But beyond his jealousy, another emotion was winding its way tightly around his heart, sinking its covetous claws deep in. 

_Possessiveness_. 

Ren was _his._

His rival. His best friend. His partner. His person. 

From the first moment they’d met, they’d connected immediately—had clicked into place like puzzle pieces, jigsaw maybe. Two halves of an equation looped around an equal sign. He felt like he’d known Ren for years and years. Like they’d always known each other.

Goro couldn’t imagine not having him anymore, even though that had been his reality just months ago. 

Their meeting had been fated; god given.

Goro had never felt so sure about anything in his entire life. 

So seeing the Ren that existed when Goro wasn’t around felt a little like watching his heart walk around without a ribcage, bleeding out for strangers. 

And Ren bled constantly, all hours of the day with everyone. His fundamental expression of love was giving: time, favors, patience, a listening, empathetic ear. It was his nature to devote himself to the wellbeing of others. Goro understood this now and he didn’t dislike that part of Ren. 

But his competitiveness chafed. 

He wanted to be the most important person in Ren’s life—first place in his heart. He wanted Ren to rely on him.

He wanted to be Ren’s go-to person.

It was selfish as hell considering the things Goro had done. Considering he didn’t see a future for himself past December. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Ren always made him feel too much—made him vulnerable and weak, made him question everything.

So was it wrong that he wanted to mess up Ren just a little bit in return? That he wanted to leave someone behind? Some sign that he had existed in this place—in this life. 

He wanted to become someone Ren could never forget.

The door to Leblanc jangled as it opened.

“Goro?”

Goro looked up from his book, sitting at his usual spot at the bar. Sojiro had left him to watch the store for an hour until Ren got home. Goro wondered if the older man was checking in on his charge: Isshiki’s daughter. Considering he was the one who orphaned her, he had no right to say even this much, but he was glad she had an uncle like Sojiro. He himself hadn’t been so lucky.

“Welcome home, Ren.”

Before Goro could blink, Ren’s arms were thrown around him. 

Goro’s brain rebooted.

He slowly wrapped his arms back around Ren, for once giving in to the urge to hold him even closer. Ren buried his face in Goro’s shoulder. He was being unusually clingy, not that Goro was complaining. What had happened?

After five short minutes, Ren exhaled and let go. 

“Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Goro said, arms still loosely around Ren. “I would have shoved you off if I didn’t like it. Is everything okay?”

Silence.

… 

Ren didn’t make eye contact with him.

… 

Ugh. 

What was he expecting? As if Ren ever told him anythin—

“I’m not sure.” 

Goro stilled in surprise.

Ren grimaced. 

“You, um, probably don’t want to hear me complain—” 

Goro cut him off, eager. “No. I’m perfectly willing to hear you out.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t ask foolish questions, Ren.”

Ren bit his chapped lips anxiously. “I don’t know if it’s one thing to be honest. I’ve just been stressed lately. It’s stupid.”

“Can I do something?” Goro asked. “You know I have police connections if you need help with anything.”

Ren tensed up immediately at the word _police_. Goro frowned.

“Thank you, Goro. But I’m sure it’ll work out… soon,” Ren said, closed off. He stepped back and Goro’s arms dropped. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

Ren walked behind the counter, tying his apron in an uneven bow. 

“How was _your_ day?” 

“Uneventful. I went to school,” Goro answered.

“Hmm, sounds boring.”

Goro chuckled. “You say that like you didn’t go to school.”

“Maybe I didn’t,” Ren countered.

“Oh? Are you confessing to truancy, Amamiya?”

Ren half-smiled. “I went to school today, Detective, I swear. It was a long day.” 

“I suppose I must take you at your word.” Goro narrowed his eyes. “But before I do, are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?” 

“To be honest, just telling you made me feel a little better.”

Goro’s face heated. _Ridiculous._ Did Ren think Goro wouldn’t recognize the obvious deflection?

“I’m serious,” Ren added, looking up at him, his glance spilling over with far too much affection. Goro tried to remember if anyone had ever looked at him this way before, with so much warmth it splashed into their eyes and their mouth and every line of their face. 

No. The answer was no.

Goro’s wrath still lingered like iron in the back of his mouth. The minute he had decisive evidence, he would hit Ren hard with no room for recourse. He wouldn’t go easy on him for lying about the Phantom Thieves. He wouldn’t hold back. 

But for now, when Ren was looking at him like _that_ , all Goro could think was, 

_Keep your eyes on me forever_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone <3 Thank you so much for all your feedback and kudos! I really appreciate it <3 I can't tell you how much it means to me. I always go back and read every comment many many times haha. I hope you liked the chapter!
> 
> So we get our first love realization (?). I guess it's not exactly a confession haha. Also Goro knows now.
> 
> I'm thinking of doing a monthly update instead of trying to build a buffer. I think the reality is I probably won't have a 3-4 month stretch of time to write like I did during quarantine and I don't like letting too much time pass before posting if that makes sense. If you have thoughts please let me know!
> 
> Detailed CW: Goro follows Ren around as part of his investigation. He also gets jealous / possessive. Ren and Goro have nonchalant attitudes towards death (some suicidal thoughts on Goro's part).


	13. the stiff bald eyes, the serpents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation in the Metaverse! Akechi stumbles onto the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [tashtash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corrupted_voracity/pseuds/corrupted_voracity) <3 for reading through this chapter and being there for me! I love you, dragon <3

“So you’re saying you have nothing?” Shido asked, voice dangerously soft. 

Goro had woken up from another nightmare, tense and nauseous, only to be greeted with his ringing phone and the pleasant sound of Masayoshi Shido’s voice at fucking 5 AM in the morning. 

Goro shifted, brain buzzing calculatively. If Ren was involved in the Phantom Thieves it would be best to snuff them out without getting Shido mixed up in it. 

“There’s been no recent activity from the Cognitive World end. What if the Phantom Thieves just fizzled off?” Goro wondered. 

Shido barked a condescending laugh. 

“It’s easy to forget how amateur you still are, Akechi.” 

Goro bristled.

“The Phantom Thieves are flashy, violent attention-seekers. After the stunt they pulled with Madarame they won’t _just fizzle off_. No. Don’t use half-baked conclusions to justify your own ineptness. You have nothing.” Shido paused. “Do you need a reminder, Akechi, of what happens to those who bring me nothing? Those who are no longer useful to our cause?”

“That won’t be necessary, sir,” Goro said, stiff. “I’ll have something for you soon.”

“I wonder if that police internship I acquired for you was useless after all. It seems you lack basic detective skills.” Shido clucked his tongue.

Goro stayed silent. 

“I’ll speak to you again next week. I hope by then you won’t be such a disappointment.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In the meantime, I have two targets I need you to take care of by Wednesday. I’ll send over the information later.”

Goro winced. Two breakdowns in less than a week. It was punishment.

Shido hung up.

Goro would have to be more calculated in his trailing. Maybe if he lingered near the entrance of Mementos he’d have more luck? But there was no guarantee the Phantom Thieves would be using Mementos. What if they worked exclusively in and out of palaces? 

Regardless, he needed results quickly. He couldn’t risk Shido punishing him now. Not when he was so close. 

He’d try Mementos first. 

* * *

Ren was the fucking leader of the Phantom Thieves. 

Goro pinched his temples, frustrated beyond belief. He wanted to stab something until it stopped moving. 

Moreso, he wanted to pin Ren down and shake some sense back into him. Did he forget he was on probation? 

God, he was so stupid. Goro was going to get an aneurysm at this rate. 

He would deal with Ren as soon as the Phantom Thieves left Mementos. For now, this would be a valuable opportunity to analyze their team dynamics—learn how to break them apart from the inside.

Even through their disguises, Goro could guess the identities of the other Phantom Thieves. Niijima, Kitagawa, Sakamoto, and Ann. Niijima was a surprise, he could admit, but the rest fell in line with what he suspected. The final member, some strange blue-eyed creature, matched the childish voice he had heard in the TV station. The others called it Mona. 

Could it possibly be Ren’s cat? The creature shared Morgana’s yellow bandana.

That would mean every time the stupid cat had tripped him or nipped him or scratched at him, it was all on purpose. That fucking _devil_.

He watched each of their battles carefully, noting their strengths and inadequacies.

Ann was a good magician. Sakamoto, a hard-hitter. Kitagawa seemed to be some mix of both, while Niijima was an all rounder. The cat was a decent healer. None of them were particularly experienced.

It had taken a little while for Goro to understand what was going on with Ren, but when he did, he couldn’t hold back his laughter. 

Ren had the ability to wield multiple Personas. He did so with surprising skill, barely pausing as he switched between them. Him and Niijima handled the bulk of battle tactics, Ren decisive in his commands to his teammates. 

Ever since they’d first met, Goro had privately envied Ren’s sangfroid. He had a subtle intensity in his movement and speech that made every action or word of his seem deliberate. The Metaverse magnified this many times over, his presence poised and sharpened to a knifepoint. He looked more alive here, more bold—gliding like the flickering shadow of a flame.

Ren cast a narrow look at the other Phantom Thieves and they came to some sort of mutual consensus. They flung themselves backwards before surging forward into an All Out Attack. 

Goro scoffed at their eagerness and clumsy form. Muddled children, the lot of them. He could do so much better.

In battle the Phantom Thieves followed Ren’s orders unwaveringly. A good thing, considering he was hands down the best fighter among them. But, while Ren could objectively deal the most damage, he often took over healing and defense, letting his teammates handle the bulk of the combat. Their battles would go so much faster if he would just focus on crushing the enemies.

If he was fighting at Goro’s side, he wouldn’t have to hold back. Goro could take care of himself. And Ren was still leagues weaker than him, but he’d managed to progress much faster than Goro had expected. The benefits of having a team, he supposed.

A terrible longing was building in him. 

What if Ren grew strong enough for the cruise ship by December? 

Conquering his father’s palace alone had always seemed like a pipe dream, but if he could have Ren by his side, the possibilities for his revenge could monumentally expand.

But no. It was far too dangerous. Shido had expressly ordered him to not shut the Phantom Thieves down, so he was, no doubt, planning on using them for his political agenda. Goro couldn’t end them without incurring the consequences of Shido’s wrath. But if Goro let them continue operating, Ren could end up in Shido’s scope. 

Fuck. This was impossible.

Ren switched the lineup to include Niijima and Ann. They took over the defensive tactics, freeing Ren to go completely on offense. 

Goro couldn’t look away.

When Ren had first awakened to Arsène, he had the tell-tale signs of a beginner in his form: the awkwardness, the hesitation. All of that had been chiselled out now. He fought like he was dancing: sharp, fatal movements undercut with lithe acrobatics. The look in his eyes when he stared down a Shadow completely at his mercy gave Goro goosebumps.

Ren ground his tall black heel into the Ippon-Datara’s head, pointing his pistol straight at its forehead. His pale smoke eyes shifted to a bloody maroon, emphasized by the cat-eyed shape of his black and white domino mask.

“ _You can do better than that_.”

Goro’s heart went thump. He stared from the darkness, face burning up. Over time, he could admit he had built a certain imago of Ren in his head. Sweet, shy, clever, cute; that kind of thing. He hadn’t expected Ren to be… like _this_.

Sultry, violent, bloodthirsty, sexy. 

A scarlet-gloved demon in heels.

This side of Ren was… not good for his heart. Goro swallowed, his throat dry.

Ren typically had a relaxing effect on him. Being with him felt like being home. 

But right now, Goro’s pulse was racing faster than lightning, bloodlust surging at the thought of fighting against the leader of the Phantom Thieves—trading blows over and over again until Ren had to concede defeat to him—kneel for him and swear fealty. 

He wanted to hold Ren’s heart in his fist.

Loki shifted in his soul, sensing his bloodthirstiness, eager to emerge. 

No. Not yet.

The thing was, Shido couldn’t access the Metaverse. He was solely reliant on what information Goro fed him. And Goro would never breathe one word of Ren. 

The Phantom Thieves fought a shadow tinged red right before the escalator leading down. It was a Shiki-ouji. The battle was going decently. The shadow was weak to nuclear, but Niijima hadn’t had a chance to attack yet. 

Then the shadow swivelled and sent a Snap flying towards Sakamoto. 

Ren’s eyes widened and he leapt in front of the attack. 

It dissolved against his body in webs of red that faded into his skin. His side must be flaring in agony, but he didn’t break formation. Goro balled his fist angrily, gnawing on his lip. Ren was a self-sacrificial fool. All of the Phantom Thieves were. It seemed they took a masochistic pleasure in taking hits for each other. It was so ridiculous it was embarrassing. Goro would rather die than be surrounded by this group of idiots.

The team downed the Shiki-ouji twice, going into All out Attacks both times.

Then the battle was over.

Before they could take the escalators down to the safe level, Goro snuck ahead to find a good hiding spot. This would be his chance to see the interpersonal team relationships.

A ghost train sang past on the rails and then all the Phantom Thieves shuffled down, settling in the glass booth. 

The first, most blindingly obvious thing was Ren’s overwhelming affection for his teammates. He was sickeningly devoted to them, passing out curry and coffee, giving Kitagawa extra snacks from his seemingly endless pockets, making rounds to check on each of them and see how they were holding up, fussing over their injuries.

Goro supposed Ren was just doing his part of good Team Leader, but his role seemed less esteemed commander of the Phantom Thieves and more doting mother. 

It was pissing Goro off. He’d never had anyone look after him in the Metaverse and he’d ended up perfectly fine. Ren didn’t have to look so overwrought over his little weakling teammates.

Bitterness coiled up like a snake.

Goro focused on the others. Sakamoto and Morgana did not get along. Sakamoto was closest to Ann and Kitagawa. Niijima was not particularly close to any team member yet, but she and Ann often sat next to each other.

Morgana healed everyone one by one. Ren shrugged off his black trench coat when it was his turn, unzipping his satin waistcoat enough to expose his shoulder. The Snap had done a fair bit of damage, turning his skin a splotchy bright red. 

After the healing spell, the Thieves wrapped each other’s wounds with bandages. Ren did his own quickly, before helping the others. It seemed his tendency to not rely on anyone had followed him here.

“Why don’t we go back for today?” Ann asked. “We’ve taken care of all our targets.”

“We haven’t hit the wall,” Kitagaway disagreed.

“Can’t we just do it next time?” Sakamoto suggested, stretching.

“I think we should be trained enough to take down Kaneshiro,” Niijima said pensively. 

_Kaneshiro_. Goro’s breath caught in his throat. The next target of the Phantom Thieves and a critical patron of Shido’s campaign. He wouldn’t be able to ignore that.

Ren crossed his slim ankles, leaning back against the glass booth. “If you guys are tired, we’ll head back,” he said, neutrally.

Goro suspected Ren still had enough energy to keep going for longer. 

It was a gamble. Leave the Phantom Thieves operating and risk whatever Shido was planning. Or, end the Phantom Thieves now, garner Shido’s mistrust and potentially lose Ren’s friendship, depending on how he had to be persuaded.

Would Shido kill him if he had nothing to report next week?

No. His skills in the Metaverse were too valuable. He was useful. Shido wouldn’t kill him. 

The punishment would still be unpleasant though. It also might put his revenge plan in jeopardy, which was unacceptable.

While his teammates argued, Ren glanced around the rest stop, maroon eyes passing over Goro’s hiding location several times. Goro ducked down, hoping he hadn’t been spotted.

He wondered if Ren had something like his navigation abilities. Some preternatural instinct. It would explain his idiotic behavior at that hack fortune teller’s stall.

The Thieves eventually decided to leave. 

It was time to strike.

* * *

Ren wasn’t quite sure how he had gotten here.

Flat on his back, sword at his throat, Goro sprawled on him, piercing cognac eyes glaring at him, arms pinned above his head.

Before leaving Mementos, he had recognized the same feeling that had put him on edge the past few weeks, the feeling of being watched. He half thought it was just a byproduct of stress, which was why he had lingered back alone, sending Morgana ahead with Ann. The others hadn’t been happy about leaving him behind, but Ren had convinced them he would be fine. He hadn’t been expecting a confrontation, but he’d kept his pistol out and ready, his other hand on the sheath of his knife.

Footsteps. A familiar red mask. 

Ren’s heart dropped to his feet.

“Goro?” 

His arm holding the pistol lowered and that’s when Akechi tackled him. 

It was over in seconds, Ren’s pistol and mask skittering away from his reach.

Akechi leaned down far too close, wild eyes and blade pinning Ren down. His lips were close enough to kiss.

“Don’t be mad,” Ren pleaded, panic and shock racing through his limbs.

Akechi stared at him incredulously. 

“You’ve betrayed my trust in every conceivable way,” he spat. “And all you can say is don’t be mad?!”

Ren bit his lip, guilt churning in the pit of his stomach. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. How long have you been lying to me?!”

“I didn’t lie.”

Akechi shoved the blade closer, the cool steel pressed against Ren’s throat.

“Lies of omission are still lies, Ren. Or should I say, _Joker_? You broke your fucking promise.”

Akechi’s eyes seared into Ren like coals, flaying him alive.

“I don’t take to betrayal very well. Did you think I was a fool?”

Ren shook his head, forgetting about the blade at his throat. He winced as it brushed his skin. 

Akechi scowled. “You better start explaining.”

“I swear I will. But can you let me up first?” The heat of Akechi’s body straddling his was way too distracting for this conversation. At least Akechi had taken his stupid bird mask off. They were face to face for this conversation.

“No,” Akechi answered coldly.

Nausea was swelling like a wave in his stomach. All Ren could think was that this wasn’t supposed to happen yet. They were supposed to do Kaneshiro first. Undeniable evidence for Akechi that the Phantom Thieves were just.

Akechi nicked him, a thin trail of blood streaming down his neck. 

“You have three seconds,” he growled.

Maybe there was still a chance. He had to start from the beginning: the first day of school. 

Ren told Akechi almost everything. Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro. He left out some of the details he knew would get him in trouble: mainly the incident with Makoto at the club. It still took a while.

Akechi listened to him in stony silence, face unchanging.

“How long did you think you could hide all this from me?”

“I promise I was planning on telling you everything after Kaneshiro.”

Akechi scoffed. “Your promises mean nothing now.”

Ren flinched.

“You’re quitting the Phantom Thieves.”

Ren’s blood chilled in his veins. 

“No.” 

“Would you rather be arrested? Don’t think I won’t do it.”

“I don’t doubt you.” Ren’s eyes flashed unyielding steel. “But I’m not quitting.”

“You don’t think I can make you quit?” Akechi asked, dangerously soft. His gloved thumb rubbed against the cut on Ren’s neck. Ren shivered at the sensation, twisting his head away.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t far to go considering he was being pinned down against the floor. Akechi smirked at his reaction. _Sadistic jerk_.

Ren hadn’t seen this side of Akechi since the last time they were in the Metaverse. Then and now, it was as if something unyielding and violent in him had been set loose. 

Ren… Ren _liked_ it.

“Goro, please.”

“Are you so determined to keep risking your life, you’d beg me?” Akechi asked mockingly. The blade moved from Ren’s throat for a split second and Akechi’s grip on his hands weakened.

 _Opportunity_.

Ren yanked his hands loose in an instant, reaching for Goro’s shoulders. He bucked his hips up wildly, unseating Akechi, flipping them over. He scrambled to keep Goro down, thinking hysterically of their pillow fights. Goro elbowed him but Ren didn’t react to the pain blooming in the side he’d injured earlier, pinning Goro’s hands down and tossing the sword away.

“Be on our side. Join the Phantom Thieves,” Ren begged.

Akechi’s face went blank with shock.

“You’d make an amazing teammate. You’re way stronger than us, and we could learn so much from you. You told me yourself: you hate the way the system works. You hate how adults and institutions abuse their power, how they take advantage of the young and the weak. We can finally do something about it,” Ren pleaded, leaning down.

Akechi slammed his head up into Ren’s.

Ren’s head exploded with pain. Fuck. 

He loosened his grip for a moment and Akechi immediately tried to take control again, shoving Ren off, almost flipping them over again. Ren resisted, pulling Akechi’s hair sharply to stop him. Akechi screamed in anger.

They tousled like schoolyard boys, elbowing, kneeing, yanking hair and scratching at each other like animals. 

Akechi seized control in the end after he fucking bit Ren’s throat.

His grip on Ren’s hands was punishing. Ren tried to dig his heels into Akechi’s back, but Akechi yanked his shoes off, leaving his feet sock-clad and ineffective. 

“Yield,” Akechi ordered, eyes narrowed. 

Ren hissed angrily, head and throat still throbbing. He tried to writhe out of Akechi’s hold, but there was no leverage.

Akechi reached for Ren’s knife. He tilted Ren’s head up with it, moving close enough to growl in Ren’s ear.

“You’re a fool if you think I’d ever join your little band of merry men. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

Ren’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“There are forces using the Metaverse that could crush you like a butterfly in their fist. You should stay away if you know what’s good for you.”

Akechi must be talking about the perpetrator of the mental shutdowns. Madarame’s words about the man in a black mask came to mind.

“I’m not scared.”

Akechi only grew more angry at that, dropping the blade with a clatter to yank at Ren’s curls. _Ow_.

“ _You_ _should_ _be_. I’ve seen things that would make your eyes bleed. The Metaverse isn’t some place to galavant around with your friends, playing heroes with your flashy calling cards and masks.”

Rage shot through Ren’s blood, icy hot. He tried to shove Akechi off again, but the other boy didn’t relent, pulling Ren’s hair roughly in punishment.

“We’re not doing this for fun and we have no delusions about being heroes, Goro,” Ren spat. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Then tell me, what _is_ it about, Ren? What do you think you’re accomplishing?” 

“Justice.”

Akechi laughed bitterly. “Never did I think you and I would have such a radical difference in what we call justice. I suppose I was blind that way. I didn’t want to think you of all people could side against me.”

“I’d never side against you.”

“Don’t give me that shit. Right now, you’re making yourself my enemy. If you truly meant it you would quit the Phantom Thieves.”

Ren bristled. “I’m not going to avert my eyes to people that need help if there’s something I can do about it.”

“You’re on fucking probation.”

“I don’t care. We have to stop Kaneshiro before it’s too late.”

Akechi stilled. “Too late? What do you mean?”

Fuck, he slipped up.

Akechi tugged his hair roughly. “What do you mean, Ren?! Tell me right now or I swear…”

Hiding it any longer was pointless. 

Ren reluctantly told Akechi about the photos. About Makoto’s debt. About Kaneshiro ruining them if they couldn’t pay it off.

Akechi stared at him.

“So let me get this straight, Junya fucking Kaneshiro has pictures of you and the others with drugs and alcohol and now he’s blackmailing you?”  
Ren nodded.

“And you never thought even once that you could come to me? Even after I fucking offered you my help?”

Ren bit his lip, the answer obvious. 

“For someone so smart, you somehow manage to simultaneously be the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”

Ren made a sound in protest. “What could you do, Goro? I know you’d try to help, but Kaneshiro is out of reach for the police.”

“You don’t know what I can or can’t do, Ren,” Akechi seethed. “You don’t tell me anything.”

“We can handle it ourselves. It was our mistake, so it’s ours to fix. We just have to change his heart.”

“Ah yes, your little change of hearts,” Akechi said derisively. “Clumsy lobotomies. Do you honestly think what you’re doing is honorable?”

Ren scoffed irritatedly. “It’s not a lobotomy. We steal their distorted desires. We make them feel remorse. We bring them back to who they used to be, or who they could have been.”

Akechi’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re taking away their free will. You rob what, in essence, makes them bad people, then watch as they’re punished for all the crimes they would no longer even think of doing. You don’t think there’s anything wrong with that?”

“They want to be punished because they finally feel guilty. Isn’t that an expression of their free will too?”

“They only feel guilt because you want them to.”

“A _person does what they will, but they cannot will what they will_. Who's to say their corrupt desires are not what’s disrupting their free will in the first place? If a desire is so distorted it turns into a palace, doesn’t it take away their capacity for rationality? So, if we take away that thing, don’t they become free agents again, who can take responsibility for their actions if they so choose?”

“Don’t you dare use Schopenhauer against me, Ren. I was the one who taught you that in the first place,” Akechi hissed. Ren could see the conflict in the tense lines of his face. He was reaching him.

“Doesn’t that only make it more convincing?” Ren pleaded. “Let us prove our justice to you. You don’t have to say yes right now, but don’t say no until you see us in action.”

Akechi frowned.

“You’re putting your life at risk.”

“I don’t care,” Ren replied, stubbornly.

Akechi’s eyebrow twitched menacingly.

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted that point blank to Akechi’s face. He kept messing up. Ren hastily backtracked.

“I’m being careful, Goro. I promise. Just… You know the justice system is flawed. You know what happened to me. I don’t expect the Phantom Thieves to last forever, but if we can help people who are suffering right now, isn’t it worth it? If we can make life better for even just a few people, isn’t that worthwhile to consider?”

Akechi narrowed his eyes.

“ _Please_ , Goro.”

The silence spun between them round and round for what felt like forever.

Finally— 

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Ren echoed, in shock.

“I’ll let you try, but it’s not going to be easy. You and I are going to make a bet.”

Ren’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion. 

“What bet?”

“If you can convince me the Phantom Thieves are just within three weeks, I’ll let you operate without being arrested.”

“Then will you join us?”

Akechi scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

Ren sighed. He should have known convincing Akechi to join them wouldn’t be so easy. 

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll quit the Phantom Thieves.”

Ren’s heart constricted tight in his chest.

“How do I prove our justice to you?”

“That’s up to you, _darling_. I would ask if you accept the deal, but you really have no choice.”

“I accept,” Ren said anyway.

Akechi shot Ren a look that made Ren’s insides feel wrung out. He let go of Ren’s hair.

Ren had really fucked up this time.

He’d gotten too carried away. 

Because he wanted them to hurt. Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro. It was a visceral anger too sharp to be contained, like a needle of resentment in his gut. He wanted to make them suffer. To make them pay a blood price. To punish them for having the audacity to hurt the people who trusted them. He wanted to give them hell. 

He called it justice, but that was really a kind of revenge, wasn’t it? 

… 

He tried to imagine Goro’s reaction if he admitted it. Sometimes, Ren had the feeling that he and Goro shared their anger, their fury… But then why? Why didn’t Goro want to join the Phantom Thieves?

One thing at a time. He had to make amends for lying first. 

“You have every right to be mad at me, but I swear, Goro, I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to put you in a difficult situation with your job, but if there was a chance we could help people… I couldn’t let it go. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“What’s done is done, Ren. We’ve already made our deal.”

“I’m not trying to back out of it, Goro.”

“Then what are you trying to say?”

“I want to make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Akechi’s eyes darkened, but not with anger. He looked down at Ren with amusement. His thumb brushed over the bite mark on Ren’s throat, almost threateningly. 

Ren’s pulse beat out of his chest like a raven. 

“Oh?” Akechi raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What will you do? You already said you won’t quit the Phantom Thieves for me.”

“Anything other than that,” Ren offered.

“Like what?”

“I can make you coffee whenever you want?”

“You’ll do that anyways,” Akechi pointed out.

Ren sighed. He twisted his hands out of Akechi’s grip to wrap them around the other boy’s shoulders, yanking him close. Akechi crashed into him, making an angry muffled sound at the surprise hug.

Ren blew Akechi’s hair out of his mouth.

“I’m really really sorry. Please, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

Akechi pushed up on Ren’s shoulders so he was hovering over Ren’s face, cognac eyes holding Ren in place.

“Are you so desperate for my forgiveness?” he jeered.

“Yes.”

Akechi looked taken aback by his honesty. 

He was silent for an entire minute.

“Anything, you said?” he finally repeated.

“Anything.” Ren replied, hands resting on either side of Akechi’s back. 

“One favor. Any time. Anywhere. You can’t say no.”

He should have figured. Akechi was a sore winner. He liked savoring his victories— hanging them over Ren’s head for as long as possible. 

“Okay,” Ren agreed. “One favor. Any time. Anywhere. I won’t say no.”

“And if you break another promise with me, I’ll kill you,” Akechi threatened.

Ren nodded, so relieved he couldn’t breathe. 

He had agonized about this moment for so long. 

It was okay. Even though he still had to convince Akechi that the Phantom Thieves were righteous, no one was arrested yet. Akechi was giving them an opportunity to keep operating. 

Ren might be able to convince him to join them eventually.

“Honestly, I should have expected you wouldn’t be able to leave things alone,” Akechi muttered. “You idealistic _fool_.” 

Ren was well-accustomed to that tone. Condescending, but affectionate. Fond. 

The last of his tension dissipated.

Akechi didn’t hate him. 

They were still friends. 

Still rivals. 

Ren’s eyes stung. Thank god.

Moving on instinct, he buried his fingers in Akechi’s silky hair and pulled him in close, pressing his lips against Akechi’s forehead. 

If even a fraction of his gratitude—his affection—could make it through...

He pulled back. 

“Thank you, Goro. I promise I’ll make this up to you." 

Akechi stared at him blankly. 

Ren waited for him to say something or do something. 

Nothing.

… 

Was Ren too obvious? Had he made Goro uncomfortable? 

Fuck. Something frantic twisted up his intestines.

“Can you let me up?”

Akechi moved aside wordlessly.

Ren adjusted his collar, pulling the zipper back up to the top of his neck. He slid his dagger back into his sheath and scouted for his boots. Akechi had flung them some ways off. Ren grabbed them and shoved them back on, giving Akechi a dirty look for tossing them in the first place.

A bruise was already darkening over Akechi’s right eyebrow. A consequence of their fight. Ren reached into his pocket for one of Takemi’s remedies, tossing it to Akechi.

Akechi caught it and turned it over in his hand, raising an eyebrow.

“Your face…” Ren vaguely gestured over his own face. 

Akechi rolled his eyes but shot it down, Adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed. Ren stared.

“Do you have one for yourself?” Akechi asked, glancing at Ren’s neck. The bitemark peeked right above Ren’s collar.

“What?” Ren blinked. “Oh, yeah…”

He self-consciously drank his own Takemedic. Akechi didn’t look away until all of Ren’s injuries were gone. 

Then, he turned away, exhaling sharply. 

“It’s not good to linger here. Let’s go home, idiot.” 

* * *

Goro would never be able to get it out of his mind. Ren underneath him, hands pinned above his head, his silver eyes fierce and dark, all of his attention on Goro, sweat dampening his face, back arching as he tried to break Goro’s hold on him. The heat of their bodies intertwined. Ren at his total mercy.

And then there was Ren’s thumbs rubbing soothing circles on Goro’s back. His hands in Goro’s hair and his arms folded around Goro’s neck. 

The way his fingers had curled when he’d smiled, chapped lips still lingering against Goro’s forehead. 

It had taken a while for that to sink in. Goro had held a knife up to Ren’s throat, fought with him and threatened him and raged at him, and _that_ had been his actual fucking response. 

If Goro thought about it, he’d never really been allowed to express himself like that before. His anger had always come with terrible consequences: being kicked out of the boy’s home, being beaten up by the bigger kids, being sent away from another foster family, wrecking his public image as the sweet Detective Prince. 

Nobody liked angry children. It was terribly inconvenient for him because he’d been an angry child for most of his life. He’d learned to channel it into violence; beating up shadows until he was too tired to think. But when he wasn’t fighting, it all just simmered inside of him.

Other than his mother, he’d never had anyone apologize to him like that when they’d hurt him. Never had anyone who wanted his forgiveness and approval so sincerely. Who held him close when he got upset instead of walking away. He’d never met anyone who wasn’t at least a little bit frightened by his rage either. Goro knew how terrifying he could get. 

But Ren…

So impossible.

Goro should have kissed his stupid face over and over again until he forgot his own name. See how he liked it. 

He couldn’t. Obviously. He had more control than that. 

He cleared his throat. It wasn’t the right time.

That disastrous mess aside, he had a week and a Gordian knot of issues he needed to cut through. 

Covertly disbanding the Phantom Thieves wouldn’t work going off Shido’s reaction to the idea. He wouldn’t believe the Phantom Thieves were gone until at least a few months had passed with no activity. But Shido wanted results in less than a week. 

So despite what he’d told Ren, he’d have to let the Phantom Thieves operate beyond the range of their bet. If he had to let the Phantom Thieves keep going, forcing Ren to quit now would only serve to cause resentment between them. Goro didn’t want to risk it. But to guarantee Ren’s safety, Goro would have to _persuade_ him to leave before Shido made his play. 

Based on how Ren had reacted when Goro suggested it the first time, it wasn’t going to be easy. 

The simplest way would be to tell Ren about his father, but this was where Goro was torn. He wanted Ren at his side more than anything, but at the same time, he couldn’t stand the thought of bringing him anywhere near Shido. If Shido knew about Ren, he’d try to take him away like he’d taken everything else from Goro. 

**No**. Shido wasn’t allowed to. Goro wouldn’t allow him to. Shido couldn’t have him. If he even breathed near Ren, Goro would— 

… 

He breathed in and out rapidly, trying to calm down. He was still in control. Shido didn’t know about Ren. And Shido _needed_ Goro.

 _We’ll keep Sigyn safe, Little Prince. Count your beats_. 

Loki. 

He hadn’t even realized he was panicking. 

Goro reached for his jugular pulse point, feeling his heart thrum under his fingers. He measured his pulse until the crashing wave in his head receded.

Then he reclined on his bed, exhausted. 

The invitation to join the Phantom Thieves had been unexpected. Goro would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered. There was no way he would ever join Ren’s gang of idiots, but at least Ren wanted him there, regardless of what his teammates thought. 

His phone buzzed on the pillow next to him. Goro reached for it when he saw a text from Ren light up on the screen. 

After a brief span of a few days where Goro had expressed his residual resentment as sheer pettiness, his anger had just worn off. It was physically impossible to stay mad at Ren for any longer. 

There was also something almost hypocritical about berating Ren for lying when Goro was keeping secrets on top of secrets from him, buried like a mass grave. 

Of course, he had promised Ren nothing. 

And Ren didn’t need to see that side of him. Ever.

Honestly, knowing him as well as he did, Goro should have put the pieces together a lot sooner. Ren’s bruises, his dodging of questions, his reaction to Kamoshida’s confession. It was all so obvious in hindsight.

At least now that Goro knew, Ren was more open with him. 

One less secret between them. 

The trade-off was that most of their late night debates had been taken over by the Phantom Thieves. Ren was being stubborn about it.

Phantom Thieves this. Phantom Thieves that. It was annoying as hell. Especially because Goro would eventually have to pretend to be convinced so the Phantom Thieves could continue until Shido used and discarded them. 

Ren’s goody-two-shoes ideology, his staunch belief in his justice, his trust in his teammates, his shameless disregard for his own life. All of it was so fucking irritating, Goro was getting a headache just thinking about it. 

But he still wanted Ren beside him right now which was, perhaps, the most aggravating part.

Tsk.

> **Goro** : Come biking with me tomorrow. I will meet you at Leblanc at 6 AM.
> 
> **Ren** : 6 AM??
> 
> **Goro** : Your reading comprehension skills are astounding, Watson. That’s exactly what I said.
> 
> **Ren** : Haha. Very funny. Do I have a choice, Sherlock?
> 
> **Goro** : No. If you’re not awake I will come get you.
> 
> **Ren** : Why did you make that sound so ominous?
> 
> **Goro** : …
> 
> **Ren** : …
> 
> **Goro** : If you go to sleep right now, you’ll get almost 5 hours of rest. 
> 
> **Ren** : Morgana will be thrilled.
> 
> **Goro** : I will never understand why you hold your cat’s opinion in such high regard.
> 
> **Ren** : ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> **Goro** : I see.
> 
> **Ren** : Good night, Sherlock. <3

Goro’s pulse thrummed in his chest. He traced the heart with his finger. So stupid.

> **Goro** : Good night, Watson. 

* * *

“Noo,” Ren protested, tugging the blanket over his head.

“Don’t be a baby, Ren. You said you were coming. Wake up,” Akechi ordered, sitting primly on the edge of his bed. Sojiro had let him in. He was wearing tight biking shorts and had tied his chestnut hair into a high ponytail, exposing the smooth nape of his neck. He looked… Well.

“Is this the veneered leader of the Phantom Thieves?” Akechi mocked, a little too cutting to be fully in jest.

Ren poked his head out to scowl. Akechi was radiating amusement.

It was unfair how awake he was. It was 5:55 AM. Knowing his sleep schedule, he had probably only gotten like three hours of sleep too. It was ridiculous. 

Akechi reached over to tug his blanket off.

Ren yanked him down into the sheets, holding him in place with all his limbs so he couldn’t escape. The close contact blurred everything into a warm sunlight loop. 

“Get off, you octopus,” Akechi hissed. “We are going biking.”

“Mmph. Too early,” Ren mumbled almost incoherently, snuggling closer.

“Detach from me this instant.”

“Don’t want to.” 

“Are you holding me hostage?”

Ren laughed into Akechi’s collarbone. He’d never liked anyone this much before. It was kind of overwhelming. 

“Yes. I have a ransom demand ready as well.”

“Name your terms. Let’s negotiate.”

“One hour.”

“10 minutes,” Akechi countered.

“50 minutes.”

“15 is as far as I’m willing to go.”

“You’re stingy,” Ren complained. 

“I am not stingy!” Akechi hissed. 

“Prove it.”

“Fine! I’m setting an alarm for 30 minutes.”

“Such blinding generosity,” Ren deadpanned.

“Shut up and be grateful.”

“Morgana sleeps at the foot of the bed.”

“I see him. You better share your blanket, _darling_.”

“Just take it yourself, _honey_ ,” Ren grumbled. 

Akechi did some complex maneuvering with the blanket and other pillow. Despite his earlier complaints, he didn’t push Ren off. Instead, his gloved hand settled hesitantly at the base of Ren’s spine. 

Ren closed his eyes, flustered. Akechi’s skin was chilled from the morning air, but Ren was way too comfortable to protest. Akechi was being so gentle with him, maybe… 

“Are you still mad at me?” Ren asked, mumbling again.

Akechi paused. The silence was so heavy it was almost tangible.

“Yeah,” Akechi admitted.

Ren pulled the pillow over his face. “Okay,” he said, words muffled.

Akechi sighed. “It’s your recklessness, Ren.”

“I’m being careful,” Ren insisted.

“What was careful about you talking to drug dealers in Shibuya? Or you breaking into Madarame’s house? Or worst of all, confronting Kaneshiro at his club? ” Akechi asked sharply.

Ren blinked.

“I can see how _careful_ you’re being, Ren, and I’m not impressed. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

Guilt crept up Ren’s spine. As leader, he’d put all his friends at risk by letting them barge into Kaneshiro’s layer. He should have stopped them. But Makoto… they couldn’t have left her behind. No, there was no other option.

Akechi continued. “My mother used to work in a nightclub like that so I know. When you end up in places like that, it’s like slipping into another world. Missing people, lost children, crime, drugs, trafficking, sex. You don’t know how hard it is to claw yourself out when no one can see you anymore. When no one _wants_ to see you. It's like you’re already dead and you might as well be to them.”

“Goro…” Ren said, at a loss.

“If you keep going the way you are now, you’re going to hit a point of no return, Ren. I don’t know what you’re thinking will happen at the end of all this right now, but I hope you know you won’t be able to go back to the life you had before.”

“What life?” Ren replied bitterly. “It’s all gone. I have a criminal charge on my record and it’s not going away. Nothing I do even matters anymore, so I don’t care. I’m going to do what I know is right, even if I get punished for it again.” 

Akechi frowned unhappily. “That’s a bleak attitude.”

“But you can’t disagree. It’s just how it is. But… we’ll play it more safe from now on, I promise. No more confronting mob bosses or breaking into places.”

“I should hope not,” Akechi said, eyebrow twitching. He reached over to pinch Ren’s cheek hard. “Honestly… _you_ …” 

“Goro,” Ren complained, pushing Akechi’s hand away and rubbing at his cheek.

Akechi sighed, massaging his temples. 

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he complained.

“I have to keep up with you, don’t I? You’re very stubborn yourself, you know.... And bossy,” Ren teased.

Akechi shoved a pillow into his face, smothering him for half a second.

“I’m not stubborn or bossy,” Akechi declared. “Now go to sleep,” he ordered. 

Ren's lips twitched.

“You should nap a little too," he replied. "You look so tired.” Ren reached for Akechi's cheek shyly, brushing his thumb across the dark circles under Akechi's eyes.

Akechi stilled at his touch.

“You’re a night owl, huh?” Ren asked, yawning.

“Yes, I suppose. To be honest, I didn’t expect that you’d like sleeping in so much. I thought you were a morning person. You’ve always woken up before me when we’ve stayed over at each other’s places,” Akechi babbled, chest vibrating as he talked. 

Only half-conscious, Ren didn’t bother responding aside from a sleepy _Mm_. Akechi dragged the blanket up to cover both of them, still talking softly, complaining about one thing or another. His words were flowing together, intangible.

If Ren put his ear against Akechi’s chest right here, he could hear Akechi’s heartbeat. Like the roar of the ocean in a conch shell. Ren had read once that if you stayed close to someone you loved long enough, your pulses and breathing patterns started to sync up. 

Sharing a heartbeat with Goro… he would like that a lot.

Ren drifted back to sleep slowly.

*

They woke up a full hour later, sleeping past the alarm, drinking Sojiro’s coffee before heading to the park. 

Akechi was inconsolable over the extra half an hour they’d slept in. Over breakfast, he’d started listing every single thing they could have done in the time they’d wasted, every so often asking Ren when he was going to apply sunscreen. 

It was only when Ren wheeled out his rickety two-wheeler that Akechi finally paused, mid-rant. 

“Is that your bike?” he asked, incredulously.

“Wow. Fantastic deduction, Detective.” 

Akechi frowned at his sarcasm. “Are you sure you can keep up with me on that?”

Ren’s eyes flashed competitively. “Let’s find out.”

Right as he was about to issue a challenge, Morgana padded out the door, meowing loudly. 

“Ren! Where are you going without me?! I woke up and—” he cut off abruptly, seeing Akechi. The two stared each other down.

Morgana clawed up Ren’s back, peeking at Akechi from Ren’s shoulder. “Do you think he heard me?” Morgana asked anxiously. “He heard me the other day, with the pancakes thing.”

Ren wanted to face palm. Akechi’s lips twitched.

“Heey~” Morgana called experimentally to Akechi.

Akechi stayed silent.

“Maybe it wore off,” Ren suggested. “We’re going biking, Mona. I don’t want to carry my bag the whole way so you can’t come.”

Morgana hissed angrily at Akechi who merely rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll bring you back sushi,” Ren promised, failing to pry Morgana off his shoulder. After several rounds of cajoling, Morgana finally released his claws. Ren winced in pain. 

“If you’re done placating your cat, can we get going, Ren?”

“I’m not a cat! Tell him, Ren,” Morgana wailed. 

“Morgana is an amnesiac human being trapped in the body of a cat,” Ren dutifully explained.

“Gah! Don’t tell him all that!”

“I suppose that explains why he has such a… boisterous personality,” Akechi said. Ren could see the mischief glint in his eyes. He was having too much fun with this.

“What does boisterous mean? Is he insulting me?!” Morgana whined. 

“I think it was a compliment,” Ren lied. 

Morgana narrowed his blue eyes. “I don’t believe you.” He turned on his paws, sassily lifting his tail. “I’m going to watch TV. You better not forget the sushi.”

“I won’t.”

Morgana padded off, tail flicking agitatedly. He was going to demand an explanation later. Ren knew it. 

Ren pinched Akechi’s side, and Akechi smacked his hand away.

“Don’t needle Morgana,” Ren scolded.

“I’m under no obligation to play nice with your feline creature. If we don’t get going now, we’ll miss the cycle train. Come on.”

They made it to the park relatively early in Ren’s opinion. The sun was already up though, which Akechi was not happy about. Whatever. He could use more Vitamin D. 

They went down the bike path, Akechi quickly taking the lead. He flashed a smug look behind his back and Ren kind of wanted to ram into him a little. A lot.

At least the view was nice.

“Do you like any other sports other than biking?” 

“I find bouldering enjoyable. It’s the perfect way to train both body and mind,” Akechi said.

“That’s sort of like rock climbing right?”

“Yes. There are no ropes or harnesses to depend on though. Nothing but your own strength and force of will. It’s absolutely thrilling.” Akechi shot him another smirk over his shoulder. “I’ll take you with me when I go next.”

“Anytime,” Ren replied, undaunted at the challenge.

They biked in silence for a while. It was comfortable. Akechi stayed in the lead, but Ren didn’t mind. He was just figuring out how to bring up the Phantom Thieves again when Akechi looked back again. 

“Be careful, Ren. This part’s a little rock—”

 _*CLANK_ *

A blinding sharp pain shot through Ren at a point right below his knee. He slammed on his hand brakes. Akechi screeched to a stop in front of him, pushing his kickstand down and dismounting, rushing towards Ren.

“What happened?” he asked, leaning down to look at Ren’s leg.

A sharp stone had gotten caught up in Ren’s front wheel, spinning around and gathering momentum before firing towards Ren’s leg like a projectile. Ouch. It had cut pretty deep. He was bleeding. Akechi frowned. 

“This is why I was telling you this part is rocky.”

“Bad luck, I guess.” Ren tumbled off his own bike to sit on a nearby bench, lifting his leg up beside him so he could hug his knee. 

His kickstand was too rusted, so his bike immediately fell over like a badly folded paper crane. Ren winced as it clattered to the ground. Akechi snorted.

“Watch my bike. I’m going to run to the nearest konbini for some first aid supplies,” he ordered.

“That’s unnecessary,” Ren protested. “I can just splash some water on it and I’ll be fine.”

Akechi glared. “I disagree. It looks pretty deep. You don’t want it to scar, do you?”

“You really don’t have to,” Ren insisted. “I can do it when I get home.”

Akechi crossed his arms and tapped his fingers. He looked at Ren with narrowed eyes. “What, you still won’t depend on me, even when you’re hurt?”

Ren bit his lip unhappily. Why did Akechi have to word it like _that_?

Akechi continued. “I’m merely returning the favor from when you looked after me, Ren. This is the least I can do. Just wait right here for me.”

“Are you going to bike there?”

“No. I’ll have to go off the path. Luckily, there’s one not too far from here. I’ll be back soon.”

Akechi patted Ren’s shoulder awkwardly before setting off at a brisk pace. Ren watched him go. 

He pulled out his phone and texted some of his friends for a bit before turning to his sudoku app. 

A familiar voice called his name. 

_Hifumi_.

It was a surprise to see her here. She was wearing her usual red, white, and blue dress, the charm in her hair swinging as she approached. She had a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hey, Ren.” Hifumi looked down at his bleeding knee. “Are you okay?”

Ren nodded.

“What are you doing here?”

Ren shrugged. “I came biking with my friend. What about you?”

“I play Shogi with the visitors to this park on the weekends sometimes. Are you up for a match today?”

Ren smiled wickedly, excitement stirring. 

“Sure. My friend definitely is too. I think he’d be a good opponent for you.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know if he knows the rules for shogi but we play chess often. He’s really good.”

Hifumi’s eyes lit up. “I hope he doesn’t feel too upset when I destroy him.”

Ren laughed. “He’s just as competitive as you, Fumi. He’d probably want a rematch.”

“I’d be all too happy to deliver,” she promised.

“Maybe the two of us could team up against you. See if we could finally reach a draw.”

Hifumi smiled radiantly. “You could try. I look forward to seeing if this friend of yours is as good as you say he is.”

Of course that was when Akechi returned. He smacked the back of Ren’s head with the brown paper bag before turning to Hifumi. His eyes flitted to Ren, prompting.

“Hifumi, this is my friend, Goro Akechi. Goro, this is Hifumi Togo,” Ren introduced.

“Ah, hello. It’s charming to meet you.” Akechi paused. He looked at Hifumi a little closer. “I’m sorry if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the Venus of Shogi?”

Hifumi winced. “That’s me,” she said, unexcitedly.

Akechi blinked. “Oh! I apologize if I embarrassed you, Togo-san. I’m quite familiar with the discomfort of being recognized in public, myself, haha.” Ren rolled his eyes. “I follow a magazine that published your interview.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Hifumi replied. “My classmates are fans. You’re the Detective Prince.”

Akechi rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, yes. I suppose I have my share of embarrassing titles.” 

“My favorites are the Savvy Sleuth and the Highschool Hopeful,” Ren said. 

Hifumi laughed.

“Thank you, Ren. That was unnecessary to bring up again,” Akechi muttered, under his breath.

“That actually makes me feel a little better,” Hifumi said. “I didn’t realize you two were close.”

“We’re rivals,” Ren explained.

Hifumi’s eyes widened. “A rivalry? My my.” She smiled softly. “I hope I’ll see you both later. It’ll be interesting to see if your wits together can outstrip mine.”

Akechi raised an eyebrow.

“Hifumi’s playing shogi matches at the park today. I’ve put us both down,” Ren told him.

“Ren’s spoken highly of you. I wonder if you can match up with his praise,” Hifumi challenged.

Akechi smiled bright and vicious. “I’ll do my best.”

“I need to get everything set up but I’ll see you both soon.” Hifumi waved goodbye and started the trek to the other side of the park

“You don’t mind right?” Ren asked, looking up at Akechi.

Akechi shook his head. 

“Sit down. Let me take a look at your leg.”

Ren sat back down on the bench, pulling his leg up. It was still bleeding, albeit sluggishly. Most of it had scabbed over. 

“Do you think I’ll need stitches, Doctor?” Ren teased. 

Akechi rolled his eyes. He splashed water from his water bottle onto Ren’s leg before spraying the wound with some kind of disinfectant. It burned. 

“I doubt it.” 

Akechi pulled at his knee and Ren flinched backwards from the unexpected touch. Akechi let go of his leg.

“I’m wrapping it with a bandage. Is that okay?”

“I can do it.” Ren held out his hand, but Akechi pushed it away. 

“I can do it better.”

Akechi leaned down with the bandage in hand and began binding the wound. He didn’t look up, but Ren still felt a little too hot—a surge of heat expanding outwards from all the places Akechi was touching him. The attention was overwhelming, but it was always that way with Akechi.

Akechi’s fingers curled under Ren’s knee to examine if the bandage was tied properly and Ren covered his steaming face with his hands. It was too much. 

His feelings for Akechi were more intense than he thought. 

Akechi lifted himself up and brushed himself off. 

“Shall we get going?” he asked, tightening his ponytail.

Ren nodded, feeling strangely shy. He stood up, knocking Akechi with his shoulder purposefully. “Thank you.”

Akechi knocked his shoulder back and Ren couldn’t hide a delighted smile. 

Akechi rolled his eyes. “Let’s go before it gets too hot, Ren. We have a match to win.”

Ren nodded and Akechi grabbed his hand absent-mindededly, dragging them both towards their bikes. Their fingers laced like an afterthought. 

Ren could feel the warmth of his blush down to his collarbones. 

*

They lost.

5 times in a row.

Akechi glowered like a gargoyle the whole train ride back. 

It was stupidly endearing. 

They stopped for Morgana’s sushi before heading into Leblanc for lunch. Sojiro took one look at them, sweaty and exhausted from bike riding, and sent them straight to the bathhouse. 

Akechi finally cheered up when he won their competition over who could stay in the bath the longest without fainting. By the time Ren gave in, his head was spinning like a top. He laid down on the bench, unable to move an inch.

Akechi sat next to him. His hand pushed back the damp curls from Ren’s face, feeling his forehead.

“You’re radiating heat,” he said triumphantly, as if his victory had not already been cemented the minute Ren had conceded in the bath. “And you look like a strawberry. I guess that means it’s my win.”

Ren glared which only seemed to make Akechi more amused.

“Don’t pout. I’ll get you water and a drink from the vending machine.”

Akechi’s hand slipped off Ren’s forehead, smoothing the curls back into place before he walked away. 

Ren’s face didn’t cool even as the door to the bathhouse shut. He rolled over, using his arm as a pillow, butterflies exploding in his stomach. Was Akechi doing it on purpose?

There was no way, right?

No. He was delusional.

The heat and dehydration combined with his exhaustion and sleep deprivation slammed into Ren like a train. His eyes were so heavy. 

He had just fallen back into a sort of half asleep state when something ice cold pressed down his spine. 

Ren squawked, jolting up. He barely caught the bottle before it rolled off his back. 

Akechi burst out laughing and Ren glared at him. _Jerk_. 

“Sorry, Ren. You looked so defenseless I couldn’t help myself,” Akechi explained, wiping a tear away. 

“That sounds like something a bully would say,” Ren accused, opening the bottle. 

Akechi bumped their bare shoulders together, taking a seat next to Ren. “Perhaps… But you’re the only one I like bullying.”

“Don’t act like you’re giving me a compliment.” 

Akechi laughed again and Ren was struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss him again. Ren turned his attention back to his drink instead, trying to pretend his face was not on fire. 

But Akechi didn’t let himself be ignored for long. His cold hand pressed against Ren’s cheek before brushing against Ren’s forehead again. Ren flinched in surprise. 

When had Akechi grown so comfortable touching him?

“Hmm, I think we may have overdone it,” Akechi said, actually looking concerned. “You’re burning up.”

“I just need some fresh air. Come on, let’s get dressed,” Ren dismissed, embarrassed. He gulped down half the water bottle before standing up and tossing it to Akechi so he could drink the rest. “First one to put all their clothes on wins?” 

Akechi smirked. 

“That depends. Are we counting shoes?”

* * *

“Did you find anything of worth, Akechi? Or was all that time I gave you to investigate worthless?” Shido’s harsh voice crackled over the phone like a whip. He was probably still in his office.

“I have a piece of information that might interest you, sir. I have reason to believe the Phantom Thieves will be going after Junya Kaneshiro as their next target.”

“First Madarame, now Kaneshiro. Lightning doesn’t strike twice. Are they aware of our plans?”

“I don’t believe so, sir. I had a chance to see them in action in the cognitive world. They are incompetent amateurs, no better than children. You have nothing to fear. They’ll crumble before your might,” Goro said, pitching his voice convincingly.

“Your confidence is reassuring as always, Akechi.” Goro rolled his eyes, texting Ren on the side. “Have you identified them yet?”

“As you know, sir, the cognitive world disguises its users. I will need more time to discern who they are, hopefully by cross-identifying them to their real life identities.”

“I don’t care how you do it, Akechi. Just get it done and get it done fast.”

“Of course.” 

“I have another target for you. I’ll send you the details tonight. Okumura’s competitors are getting a little too big for their britches again. He wants us to take care of it. I hope to see results soon.”

“You can count on me, sir. It’ll be done,” Goro promised, sickly feeling seeping into his stomach.

“It better be.”

* * *

Kaneshiro’s palace was fun. Maybe Ren shouldn’t be saying that, given their mission and all, but he loved puzzles and literally what other time would he get to rob a bank with his friends? 

Makoto changed their dynamics. Ann noticed it too. It felt more and more like they were a real vigilante group. There was something more decisive about them now. If Yusuke or Ann had chosen to end Madarame and Kamoshida respectively, Ren would’ve understood. With Kaneshiro, he already knew that wasn’t happening. Makoto wouldn’t accept it as justice, so if they wanted to keep operating, they had to play with the new rules and toe that side of the line. Which was fine. Kaneshiro would do more good in custody, bleeding all his business secrets and crimes from the police’s under-the-table interrogation techniques. Ren knew that hell too well. It was a fitting punishment.

The floor dissolved into whirling claws, fire spells, and gunshots. Yusuke’s katana flashed like headlights reflecting off black ice. Ren tossed a Takemedic Makoto’s way, before rolling out of the way of the orthrus. 

It leapt at him again, snarling with its slobbering mouth and hooked fangs. Ren’s fingers dipped to his dagger. He was at a disadvantage with its short range. 

He stabbed the beast in the eye three times before springing back. Not fast enough. It’s claws swiped, scratching his shoulder. Ren bit back a pained gasp.

He could handle this alone. The others were occupied. He just needed an ice persona. He could switch next turn.

The orthrus prepared for another attack, weight shifting to its haunches before it pounced.

Two gunshots crackled, striking like lightning. The bullets ripped into the orthrus’s torso. The beast opened its maw in surprise, collapsing onto its side before dissolving to dust. 

Ren grinned. He whipped around and made a little heart with his gloved hands in thank you, sending it with a flying kiss up into the shadows of the room where he could sense Goro’s presence like a beacon of light blooming in the back of his mind. 

Another bullet cracked to his right, a little too close for comfort. 

_Did I fluster you?_ Ren wondered, amused.

He smirked and spun back around, turning his attention to the battle. The others hadn’t noticed his lapse in attention, thankfully.

Goro was probably going to yell at him later.

Makoto cast a healing spell on the whole party. The rush of energy surged through Ren’s limbs, and he slayed the Rakshasha nearest to him. A Take-Minakata tried to stab him in the back, but Ryuuji smashed its head in before it could. They fist bumped before dodging another attack.

Ann burned the Leanan Sidhe like paper.

“Fox!” Ren called.

Yusuke nodded, freezing the last orthrus into a popsicle. 

All enemies down.

Guns out, they got into position, surrounding the shadows on all sides.

They smiled at each other, victorious, adrenaline still crashing through their system. 

Ren nodded. “All out attack!”

_It’s showtime._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> I promise I will respond asap to all comments. I just wanted to get this chapter up haha. I appreciate your encouragement so so much! Your comments mean the world to me. 
> 
> I hope the confrontation satisfied <3\. Please let me know what you think. We've entered the next phase of the story now that Akechi finally knows!
> 
> [Also, please look at this gorgeous art made by Keycake (@Keycake) for Chapter 5!](https://twitter.com/Keycake/status/1340420845848674311?s=20)  
> Gentle Madman's Phantom (@ToonSkyGuardian) made a stunning piece for Chapter 9! Please look at it here: [CROPPED](https://twitter.com/ToonSkyGuardian/status/1359737734705872900?s=20) and [FULL LENGTH](https://twitter.com/ToonSkyGuardian/status/1359854606092763136?s=20)


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